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Dear Facebook,
When you first lured me into this predatory relationship, it was with a promise. It was about connection, maintaining the relationships we all knew we were leaving behind once college came. Well, Facebook, you stopped holding up your end of the deal a long time ago. A lot of the people from high school? Present company excluded of course, are the ones I want to forget I even knew.

I gave up on Facebook as a tool for connection a long time ago. Still, I stuck with you. Through all the aesthetic changes and privacy settings, I was on your side. Well, I'm starting to wonder why. See the whole point of this post isn't to expose Facebook for its failures in keeping us connected or even keeping us entertained. It still keeps me entertained at least. But still, I rely on Facebook for really only one thing and that's to bring my writing to a wider audience.

Don't get me wrong, I still write on my own blog, but then Facebook posts my blog entries as notes so that they're more readily available for those who are interested. Here's the difficult part. It's not just a new thing, it's been happening way too often lately that my posts don't get... posted, for lack of a better term, and I can't afford to have that happen. In fact, the whole point of this entry is that I know that the people that still read me probably won't get this for another couple of days. That being said, I'm going to stop posting on Facebook. It's just not as reliable as I need it to be.

If you're still interested in reading, please go to http://selfproclaimedmegalomaniac.blogspot.com/ and become a follower. It's a simple process and it only takes a few minutes and I'd like to think it's worth your time. As for me and you, Facebook? Don't consider this a break up, just consider it a break. I think we need some time apart.

Sincerely,
Calhoun

Et Tu, Family Feud?

Now anyone who knows me knows that I have an addictive personality. I'm not not talking about drinking and smoking. In retrospect, part of me wishes I was... but no, I'm talking about Facebook games. Back in the olden days, by which I mean last summer or maybe two summers ago at most, it was mafia Wars or Mob Wars. Honestly, it was in the beginning stages, because I can't even remember which one it was that I played. Then, it moved on to Farmville. Farmville was a nice transition because you planted crops and everything so you didn't need to be by your computer all day to check on crops. Then cafe World entered/ruled my life for some time. Meals, as most people know, are done faster than crops so this one required a little more attention to detail. By a little more, I really mean that I would set alarms on my cell phone to make sure I had time to serve food.

That's when I realized I had a problem. Now some of you may be thinking "crack is a problem" or "being sexually abused by the church deacon is a problem", but I assure you growing up in upper/middle class, predominantly white suburbia, this is the closest to an addiction I've probably ever come. SO I decided to ween myself, but any addict will tell you, it's a process. That being the case, I can proudly say, my name is Calhoun, I'm a Facebook games addict and I've been off Cafe World for about 2 months.

Which brings me to my next issue, which I hesitate to even call an issue. For those Facebook savvy folks out there, you may or may not know that Family Feud is available to play on Facebook. The problem is, my plan of moderation isn't going as well as I'd hoped. Sure, it only allows you to play 2 episodes a day, but what happens when they forget to add new episodes one day? Well, I can tell you because that's the sort of crisis I'm going through now. i haven't played since late last night after getting off of work. I use it as my stress relief, which isn't always effective, but whatever, it's a work-in-progress. So of course, right now, I'm doing all I can to avoid going back to my Facebook and checking if the Family Feud episodes are up for the day.

Now as for this stress relief thing, I don't know how many of you have guilty pleasures which you truly feel keep you sane, but I know I've got mine. Family feud is undoubtedly one of them. The issue is, well, you know how they survey Americans and you're supposed to guess what most Americans say? Well, we run into a little problem when most Americans are stupid. I don't mean to sound harsh... well, actually, I do. The category is "Name some of the most common things you find on a fast food burger". I go through all the staples of burgers like ketchup, pickles, and even bun. What was the number one response? Beef. Now, I don't know how you eat your burgers, but would you say that you find beef ON your fast food burger? You're an idiot if you would, honestly. It IS the burger, how can it be ON the burger? This isn't some philosophical question, I'm asking, quite literally, how can something be on what it is? It can't! Of course, this is the question that made me lose the round and kept me from Fast Money. What followed was a string of obscenities too profane even for the internet and a chain of events that led me to stubbing my toe on the corner of my table. needless to say, I'm re-thinking my stress relief, but then again, it has to be better for me than cafe World, right?

Childhood Ambitions? None for me, Thanks

You know that time in your life where every little boy wants to be a policeman or a firefighter? Yeah, I don't. My reasoning? Policemen get shot. I mean, I know I was little, but I wasn't an idiot. I'd seen the news. It seems every other day it's about some tragedy that happened TO the police or some tragedy that the police couldn't prevent. Now, this isn't to say that policemen don't do good work, but seriously, why would I want to do that? Sure, you get the whole hero thing, but that usually comes at the expense of some self sacrifice. Firefighters were the same deal. Firefighters go INTO burning buildings when everybody else is going out of them. I mean, doesn't that seem like a clue to anyone else? Because it did to me. It was then and there that I decided that I was not going to follow in the footsteps of most of the kids around me. While they were getting shot at by bank robbers and drug addicts or running into burning buildings, I had no idea what I'd be doing, but I knew I'd be far away from there.

In 2nd grade, we were asked a new question just about every other week. The goal was to get us to think critically, and have us write down our answers and a picture to help explain our answer. Well, it just so happened that one week's question was, "Would you go into space? Why or why not?". Out "Question of the Week" was pretty much always something along those lines, something that had to do with the lesson plan that was going on and, as I told my teacher, it was typically 2 questions of the week so the title of the program was a little misleading. Well, being the precocious little scamp that I suppose I was, my answer was something along the lines of "No. Because in space there is no air. With no air, no one can hear you scream if the spaceship blows up." The accompanying picture was flurries of orange and yellow for the flames.

I used precocious before, but I'm not sure if that's the word I meant to use. Sadly, the English language doesn't seem to have one word that means "I was covering my own ass." I was the "anywhere but here" kid. I was "anything but that." Sure, it was weird and even a little guarded for a kid my age. Of course, that's something anyone who knows me knows that I've since left behind. And after all, think about it. How many kids wanted to be cops or firefighters or even astronauts? Alright, now think about how many of them BECAME cops or firefighters or astronauts? Don't get me wrong, I know that some of them did, but let's look at those stats. I can tell you those odds probably aren't that great. Sure, I was probably the kid that knew for the longest time what I DIDN'T want to do, but I was also one of the first kids to know what I was passionate about, and what I needed to do to get what I wanted. I mean, isn't that worth the price I paid as a kid?

Strangers on a Train: A Lesson in Old School Homo-Eroticism

Would you ever casually joke with a stranger about having him murder your wife in exchange for you murdering his father? The answer is probably not, but that's the event that sets the Hitchcock masterpiece, Strangers on a Train, into motion. It sounds like a lot of suspension of disbelief is required for this movie, but surprisingly enough, while the inciting conversation is interesting and engaging enough, compared to most of the rest of the film, it's relatively forgettable.

As it seems with most movies, the "villain" of the piece is the most interesting. I use the term villain lightly because the hero of the piece isn't too great himself so the term "villain" must be used rather loosely. He lives with his mother and father still and has a disturbing affection for his mother, but strongly resents his father. It's not quite Oedipal because the relationship between the mother and son is almost like that shared between teenage girls. He fawns over her and she dotes on him. The father, who's the only thing standing between Bruno (the "villain" of the piece) and his mother, is the only voice of rationale in the family and as such clearly must be done away with. What's bizarre is Hitchcock's handling of the character. Based on his relationship with his mother and even his interaction with Guy, who is the "hero" of the piece, is particularly gay. His boyish fascination with the exploits of Guy even down to his degradation of all women that aren't his mother.

It's something that a lot have people seen as the movie ages. In fact, it's one of the most common readings of the film and just having watched it recently, it's hard to believe that there's any other reading at all. Then again, the sexual politics of the film are what make it an interesting movie, at least for me. Maybe that's just as a film buff or because I've been trained to look beyond the surface meaning of a movie, but who knows really?

As a casual observer, this movie is fun enough. It provides the suspense that Hitchcock is always hailed for, but there's still something not there for me. I think my main issue wasn't how the events played out, but just that the characters were so unlikeable and even boring. Most people know that Hitchcock can develop characters beautifully. In fact, it's pretty much all he does in movies like Rear Window and Vertigo. But these characters were just emotionless for me. Sure, I wanted Bruno to get caught and Guy to get his life back, but that mainly came from knowing that's what I was supposed to want. There were a few characters I was intrigued by, mainly Barbara who was played by Hitchcock's daughter, but they weren't usually afforded anything more than a cursory glance. All in all, Strangers on a Train is more interesting to me as a piece of film history and a statement on sexual politics at the time than it is an enjoyable movie-watching experience for me.

Where Have All the Ugos Gone?

So after years of putting of watching Twilight, I figured I should actually sit down and watch something if I hate it so much. The fact of the matter is, up until last night, I didn't hate Twilight so much as I lacked respect for the author and what she was doing with the proceeds from the book series, but it is her right to do what she sees fit with the money she's earned. However, it's also my right to refuse to spend money supporting her political agenda. Nevertheless, my politics aren't the subject of discussion here today. Now, after the tedium that is Kristen Stewart's acting and the barely passable script, I can safely say that I hate Twilight. My frustration knows no bounds so I'll have to get a review on Twilight at a later date, maybe when I've actually calmed down after wasting my life.

Today's topic, however, isn't entirely off the topic of the famous vamp franchise. It's more a question of fans of just about any vampire series. Where'd all the ugos go? I mean, it may not be nice to say, but we all know that most people out there aren't sinewy male leads or size zero seductresses. There are ugly people in the world. It's just plain true.

I think most people by now have noticed the link between vampirism (be it in the books or the movies) and raw sex appeal. It's even there as early as Bram Stoker's Dracula. Let's ignore the creepy necrophilia aspect and just concentrate on this correlation of vampirism and sex. Sure, Twilight is very restrained in its depiction, but still, one of the first things noted about Edward Cullen is that he's "gorgeous." I personally don't see it, but whatever. It's no surprise that he's considered attractive, because a lot of vampires use their sexuality to prey on their victims.

This is where the unmentionables come in. Are we supposed to assume that ugly vampires die out because they can't seduce people to feed off of them? Or is it that they just don't get turned into vampires because they're ugly? Vampires just feed off of them and leave them to die. I'm just saying, someone needs to step up and start representing the unattractive princes of darkness. It just isn't fair. I mean we have a term for discrimination against race and gender and all these things, but not against ugly vampires? We need to get started on that, that's all I'm saying. Ugly vamps need to step it up.

How Do you Call Off With No Voice?

No, it's not a riddle. After being pretty much perfectly healthy all winter, I've finally gotten sick. Never mind that it's not even that cold out or anything, but it's finally happened and I'm a disgusting display of humanity. One of the more charming features of this sickness is the loss of my voice. Now, as most of you who know me can tell, me losing my voice is like a painter losing his sight. I love to talk, it's what I do.

But never mind that. Talking also comes in handy when you have work that day. Well, not just talking, but not being sick in general is always helpful. Nevertheless, I've never called off work before unless I was, like, hospitalized or had a death in the family or anything. Even when I'm not a fan of the job, it's just not something I do. But after about my fourth coughing fit in a period of 20 minutes, I decided it might be time.

There's one small issue with the system that we've got set up at my job. I answer phones all day, which pretty much is what it is, so we're a big phone place. So naturally, it makes sense that to call off we call up the number of our work and wait to speak to a manager to let them know the whole situation. Well, there's one fatal flaw in this whole plan... what do you do when you have no voice?

I waited on hold for awhile and when I finally got through, I tried to tell my co-worker who it was. Since this delightful loss of vocals, I can't speak certain sounds. They're either too high or too low so my throat just doesn't make them. Honestly, it probably sounded like a bad connection from hell, because my "voice" freaked out my co-worker pretty bad.

STill, I work at a place that brings in a sizable cash flow every year. They've proven themselves to be capable managers of a business and I applaud them for that. Why then? Why is there no other way to call in sick than by using the telephone? I think I've proven that it doesn't do much else but freak out the people you work with when they hear you attempt to speak. Let's work on that, all I'm saying.

Is There a Phobia for Ordering Take-Out?

I know it seems awfully stereotypical, but does anybody else have a debilitating fear of talking to the people who answer the phones at take-out places? I mean, I should probably start by saying I'm not a big fan of the phone to begin with. I get it, it was a great invention, it revolutionized the way we communicate and all that, but I've never been a big fan of the phone. It might have something to do with the fact that I hate the way I sound on the phone... or more likely than not, it might have to do with that whole deaf thing where my hearing still isn't too great.

Still, whatever it is that freaks me out about the phone is only increased when forced to talk to people at the take-out place. There's just something about the whole experience that's so forced and rushed. Like, I understand that you have other orders to take, but can you please not yell at me? Then again, try saying that to someone there and it usually doesn't do you a whole lot of good. If anything, it just kind of makes me afraid that they're gonna spit in my wontons.

Then, you have to factor in that not everyone there is a great English speaker. It sound racist, I know, but it's the truth sometimes, okay? So then you have to make sure you speak slowly and enunciate so that they can understand your order. That's all well and good (although sometimes I find myself getting frustrated and have to hold the phone away from my mouth so I can utter a few swears) but it doesn't solve one of the key problems in the first place... I still can't understand them.

The whole calling in thing is surprisingly exhausting and by the time I'm done with it all (and I wish I was kidding) by the time my food arrives, I'm so bitter about it that I have to force myself to eat. Now anyone who's seen me eat knows that that's saying a lot, but the whole ordering take-out thing is honestly one of the more frustrating things I've encountered. The solution to it all? Some of you may think "Um... then just don't order take-out?" but that would be far too simple for my taste. Instead, if someone else is with me, I just have them order or (since I live alone in a studio apartment) I only order from places that have online ordering. Cut out the middle man and still get my chicken fried rice.

"Wow," some of you might say :that's really uninteresting!" Well, I got news for you buddy! You didn't have to read this, now did you? No, but seriously, I probably shouldn't accost my readers. I've only got so many left. But seriously folks, if you have any ideas for future posts, please send them my way! I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Why I Should Still Be Allowed to Wear Velcro Shoes... Without Embarrassment

I'm not going to pretend like I don't take a stand on weird things. I know that I do. Just consider it part of my charm. But I've got news for you folks, as my faithful readers (I'm sure I've still got a couple out there) you're just going to have to deal with it. I don't mean it in a rude way. I'm just saying, you had to have known what you were signing on for. Or better yet, consider me the voice for the disenfranchised. Sounds dignified, doesn't it?

Well, let's be realistic here, dignity and what I do have little to do with one another, but still, I'll consider myself a voice for those who can't find the words to speak out. For instance, the velcro shoes community. Some may scoff, but I know it exists. Proof? The Facebook group I joined "I hate tying my shoes, but I'm too old for velcro". Mind you, I never said I had very legitimate proof, but there it is.

Even in the title of the group, there's this idea that there's an age limit on fashion statements (and yes, I am calling velcro shoes a fashion statement) but why is that? I mean, I can understand high school where so many folks are clamoring to be the same so as not to be noticed, but let's say, college? College is the time for individuality for most. You know what I'm talking about, whether it be finally taking a political stance or that one awkward sexually confused night with that chick down the hall. So why doesn't the velcro shoe stage a comeback at the college level? I wish I could answer that question, but frankly, I'm as in the dark as you are.

I mean, let's look at the facts. Velcro shoes never stop being convenient. I mean, they will always be easier to secure than tying a knot. It's just plain true. It's not like those light-up sneakers you had as a kid. Because if you look back at that amazing display of fashion-forwardness you'll see that those were strictly ornamental. No purpose. Now velcro serves a purpose! Furthermore, look at all the other uses of velcro. It's not like since velcro shoes have declined in popularity the whole velcro industry has been turned on its head. It's still a valid and useful material. In fact, there are companies that still manufacture velcro so in NOT buying velcro shoes, you might as well be a communist.

So consider this a call to arms. bring back the velcro shoe, not only for fashion's sake, but for the sake of the American industry. I mean, it's a simple decision really. Sure, it may take a little time for the trend to catch on, but we all know fashion is cyclical so it was just going to happen anyway. Why not just beat everyone to the punch? Unless you're a communist... yeah, think on that.

Longtime Companion

It's not very often that you get a movie that renders me speechless. In fact, I feel pretty safe in saying that it's happened only a handful of times in my lifetime. However, yesterday after watching Longtime Companion, I found myself in that position again. More than anything else, I was grateful for the experience, but also entirely exhausted. Not physically, but emotionally.

Longtime Companion came out in 1990 with something that no other movie had offered before. It followed a group of friends and lovers as they tried to make sense and come to terms with the HIV/AIDS crisis in the 1980s. Sure, now we think of movies about HIV/AIDS and we can rattle off at least a few, namely Philadelphia which came several years after. At the time of Longtime Companion, they were breaking new ground. Even watching it now, it's unlike any other movie that's addressed the epidemic.

There's something to be said about the honesty of it, which is what i think I found so captivating. So many other movies try to paint their protagonist's death with dignity and purpose. The fact of the matter is, that at the time, the most honest emotion would have been fear. Longtime Companion showed that fear and paranoia as well as the toll it took on the lives of those who may not have been suffering from the disease themselves, but had loved ones who were. It was just so all-encompassing in its addressing that crucial period.

Granted, it's not a perfect movie. the ending was a bit theatrical, but it served its purpose well. There are some melodramatic moments that were distracting, but it was easy to see why they were there. There were even some characters that, as awful as it may sound, seemed like they were supposed to provoke a certain emotional response, but weren't fully characterized enough to sustain them. Still, like most movies, its flaws are a part of the experience. It in no way detracted from the emotional experience. I still found myself utterly depressed and slightly red-eyed at the movie's end.

However, up until this point, I've ignored the crucial component of Longtime Companion that so many other AIDS-related movies are afraid to address. Longtime Companion is both poignant and political. There's this political edge to it that caught me so off guard, but I was glad that it did. there was a somewhat unspoken call to action in the film's conclusion. I felt as if I'd experienced only a fraction of the heartache and fear that these characters had undergone, and I was amazed that they had found the will to move on. By the end of the film, these characters have been through hell and back and the ones that remain have taken up a cause. In their living, they've found a purpose; to give a voice to the dead.

Longtime Companion is a movie unlike any other because of this. It is unabashedly political and sentimental. It throws its audience into the lives of complete strangers and by the end, I found myself caring about the fates of those that remained. Its not only important as a contextual piece of film history, but also as a profound and moving experience.

When Good Shows Go Bad

"This is the way the world ends, not with a bang but a whimper" The question is; is this how we want our shows to end? It seems silly to quote Eliot when talking about something as trivial as television, but as an avid TV watcher, I've seen too many shows get cancelled before their time and far too many last beyond their prime.

So this is the question; is it better to cancel a TV show prematurely or to let it go on too long? I think I already have my answer for this one as a lover of doomed TV shows. I'm not going to be that annoying guy that's like "Oh, but I watched it first" but when it comes to shows like "Arrested Development", I watched it since day one. Don't get me wrong, I agree with people's outrage that the show got cancelled, but at the same time, it's definitely possible in my mind that it had run its course. It ended with a strong finish, even though no one really saw it coming and I almost prefer that.

But then you have to consider Hollywood's latest trend of turning TV shows into movies. It used to be older shows that my generation wouldn't have watched in the first place, i.e. Starsky & Hutch. But since then, it's lent itself to the cult classic TV shows such as Strangers with Candy or "Firefly" basically being turned into Serenity. Now I have no complaints about these shows turned movies, but for the most part, it's nothing I haven't seen before. Usually it's just a cheap bid to get more people interested or an extremely long episode.

Still, my biggest fear came to life May 30, 2008. Okay, well, that may have been a bit melodramatic, but I guess I just realized then that more of the characters I loved wasn't always a good thing. I admit to being a "Sex & the City" fan. For the most part, I could really get behind what carrie was saying. Now every so often, Charlotte would go on a rampage about wanting a baby and I didn't fully get that, but for the most part, it was a product of good writing and solid acting. By the time Sex & the City came out, I'd already said goodbye to these characters. Furthermore, the giantesses on the movie screen were not the women I'd been ashamed to have spent 6 years with. These women were shallow and vapid and self-pitying. They simply weren't the same.

I'm not saying, just accept it when a show is cancelled prematurely. I guess I'm saying, take a look on the bright side. I've stuck around with shows that have lasted past their prime and the end result was resentment for having ever watched it in the first place. However, those shows that were cancelled before their time, they have the unique privilege of being re-watchable for some reason. I can never seem to get enough of my shows that have been cancelled before I'd had a chance to say my goodbyes. So in the end, looks like Eliot was right. At least he was about my TV world. I'd much prefer it to end with a bang than to slowly fade out.

Dear John

Dear John,
To the untrained eye, this might appear to be a movie review of whatever latest trash Amanda Seyfried is in. Sorry Amanda, but after Jennifer's Body AND Dear John, I have a right to be a little disappointed. No, this one's for my other John, the dear John Stamos. Now, John (pardon the informality, but after 8 seasons of "Full House", I feel entitled) just wanted to see how it's been. It's been awhile since we've seen you in anything else but those awful ads you seem to keep doing. Sorry, I don't count "ER". You could've done better John, you could've done better. I'm even willing to overlook the occasional Hallmark Movie of the Month appearance. Granted, the idea of you with a guy was admittedly pretty hot, so I'll overlook "Wedding Wars", but seriously buddy, we can do a little better.
However, rather than list your various failures, why don't you highlight the good? I'm gonna start with those genes. I can only hope to look as good as you in my mid-40s. But don't think me shallow, there are some other definite positives. Like those years in "Full House"? Forget about it! I spent summers with my uncle Mark up at the family cabin in Minnesota just wishing he could have an OUNCE of the coolness that Uncle Jesse did. Sadly, all the wishing in the world did not make my uncle Mark any cooler. I mean, don't get me wrong, he's a great guy, but let's be real, he's no uncle Jesse. You own the cool uncle image. Embrace it.
Still, I must admit, this letter of flattery has an ulterior motive. I could make up some story about some sick kid in middle America who's dying wish is to see a jesse & the Rippers reunion. Well, sorry to disappoint John, but it's not. It's just mine. Anyway, now that "ER" is over and IMDb only lists you as having one project in progress, I figured you might have a lot of free time. So, yeah, a jesse & the Rippers reunion certainly couldn't hurt team morale, so think it over? Thanks! Hope to hear the announcement of a reunion tour in the pages of EW sometime soon.
Sincerely,
Calhoun

Help Me Screw You

Help me help you. I feel so Tony-Robbins-motivational-speaker when I saw it out loud. May be the reason why I try not to say it too much... but there are some instances, particularly customer service, where you are supposed to embody the saying. Overqualified and understaffed, that's pretty much how I met my current job. For those of you that read my blog, the sordid details of our tearful break-up (or rather, my hatred of the God-forsaken place) have made it on these pages more than once. It's got nothing to do with the people that I work with, and I know it sounds terrible, but man, jobs like these force me to re-evaluate how much I like people.

Day in and day out, I answer the phones with the same pre-packaged sincerity. I give my name, place of employment and ask "How may I help you today?". Now, I'm always secretly hoping they'll say that this isn't the number they meant to dial or have a simple question like "What time do you open?" But day after day, I'm flooded with idiocy as soon as I punch in my phone code.

A couple concepts that may be difficult... Listen folks, I know Calhoun is a strange name. Believe me, I lived with it through elementary school where any type of originality was quickly weeded out as a weakness. That being said, I've gotten pretty attached to my "unique" name over the years, so I can't help but cringe every time callers refer to me as Kevin. I know they're sort of similar, but seriously, where are you getting that "v" from?

Secondly, I just told you where you called, so why are you so confused? You'd like to purchase tickets, keep on talking. I can give you all the information you need, but for God's sake, don't just stutter and stumble over every word before you finally get around to asking me "Is this the box office?" Why yes, good sir or madam, that was the first thing I said. Good to know that folks hang on my every word.

Finally, I do not make the rules. You think I'd be scanning your ticket if I was in charge of making the rules? You want to drunkenly complain, that's fine, but do it to somebody who's paid enough to care. I get paid a decent wage, but seriously, that covers answering phones and scanning tickets so if you have a complaint, don't talk to someone as low on the food chain as me.

However, while I'm on this discussion of things I'd rather you not do to me (believe me, this list may be longer than things you CAN) call me a germophobe. Call me anal retentive. Call me what you will, just do it without touching me. It's a known problem that drunks get handsy and I deal with a LOT of drunks. An occasional fist bump, whatever, that's no big deal. But then you have the people that are drunkenly trying to make a secret handshake with you with snaps and hand claps and everything. No thanks.

Or my personal favorite, the drunk insecure chick. No, me watching your ass as you walk away will not change my mind about whether you can go outside for a cigarette or not. Get an ass like Patrick Dempsey's and we'll talk, but for now, yeah, you're not doing anyone a service by leading with that line. same goes for middle-aged women who want to prove they've still got it. It's desperate and sad... until one tries to eat your face and pinch your cheeks. All pity is gone and the revulsion remains.

In the end, I find myself questioning whether I'm a people person or not. I've found myself in this position before, but never with such aggression. In the immortal words of the Magic 8-Ball "Outlook not so good."

Movie Theaters as a Symbol of Movie Culture

Movies used to be synonymous with culture. In its early days, people would dress up for a night on the town and go see a movie as an escape. Even later on, the drive-in experience was something unique to movie-going. It was a combination youth culture and Hollywood colliding in an accessible way. Now, bringing it back to present day, what do we have?

Does movie culture as a place, a haven if you will, still exist? The movie theater itself is constantly becoming bigger and better in an effort to prove its own validity. Not to date myself, but I remember the movie theater that was nearby my house growing up. It wasn't necessarily a bad theater, but it had stiff seats and always smelled faintly of stale popcorn. Needless to say, going to the movies in that place was a sensory experience. I mean, forget the movie itself which is clearly visual and auditory, but the smells of the theater itself, the feel of pulling your shoes off the sticky floor where some kid probably spilled his drink days ago. I'm not saying they were all good senses, but they evoked something, a kind of nostalgia for "simpler times".

Of course, the days of that movie theater were left behind when another theater, about the same distance from my house in the other direction, came along. Now this one promised stadium style seating. All these accoutrements were added to sweeten the pot. Don't think for a second that i didn't fall for it. I did. I soon abandoned my old theater for the prospects of this new one.

In my time in Ohio, this happened one more time, but we all know it's a never-ending experience. Movie theaters now cater to a passive movie-viewing experience. Sure, we have 3D which supposedly engages the audience, but as one of those people who literally cannot see 3D, I can't really attest to that.

However, I can say that I find the culture of movie theaters themselves has diminished significantly even in my lifetime. I understand the constant demand for luxury, but seriously, if you have a recliner in the movie theater, what's to keep you watching the movie? The movie theater itself has re-defined the movie going experience by catering to the market. The culture, which is a very real element of movie history such as the drive-in, is a thing of the past. While it saddens me to say, movie theater culture as it was will never be the same as it was back then.

Never Go to the 2nd Location

Okay, so I've been doing a lot of horror movie watching (seriously, I know, it's like the shock of the century) and I just have something to say. Time after time, you've got this ultimate baddie, be it a masked man or an inbred hillbilly, which evidently happens a lot more than you'd think, stalking down vulnerable sexy teens, right? And it always seems to happen that a whole bunch of killings take place and everybody's screamin' and runnin' around, whcih, ya know, I can kinda see why, but there's always been one thing that's bothered me.

The main girl (or guy... but usually girl) almost always gets her dumb ass kidnapped by the villain of the piece. Now, where other men and women have faced off against him and been struck down, for some reason, this girl is special. She doesn't get an axe to the face (Okay, I admit, I was watching Wrong Turn, but I'm not proud) she ALWAYS gets taken away. Now, the audience knows why she's special because most of the time, she's already been picked to be the final girl to make it, although there are some exceptions. But this girl gets dragged away, kicking and screaming when it'd really just be more practical to kill her and get the whole thing over with, but do the baddies care about this? Nooo! So they take her back to their place and tie her down and then commence the elaborate preparations for killing her, when others just got an axe to the face, just in time for the male to step in and save the day, and live happily ever after.

Okay, so I get that it's horror and that it requires a certain element of suspension of disbelief. I'll go with you on that one, but the suspension of disbelief is that Michael Myers could just get up and walk away after falling out that window (sorry, but you probably should've seen the first Halloween by now). Suspension of disbelief does not cover the painfully drawn out process of sanitizing instruments of murder. I mean, does it really matter if you sanitize them anyway? It's not like it matters if she gets tetanus!

I guess my main problem isn't that this girl always goes to the second location, even though they tell you specifically not to go to the second location... I mean, it's not like she has much of a choice. But still, that there's even a second location at all! I don't know, call me old-fashioned, but I believe in killing all people equally. If an axe in the face is good enough for one girl, it should be good enough for all girls. Okay, that sounds bad, but you know what I mean. It's just the principle of the second location that totally removes me from the suspense and tension of the movie. But then again, horror is kinda bound by its traditions, so I guess I'll just get used to it.

The House of Yes

Every so often, a movie comes along that defies convention. Now I'm not talking about movies that have the tacked on, ambiguously indie ending. No, I mean, really defy convention. From the very beginning, it's clear that The House of Yes is going to be one of those movies, although you're never really sure just how far it'll go. I'm just saying with the opening monologue about Jackie-O (Parker Posey) dressing as Jackie-O with ketchup and glued on macaroni for brains? Yeah, you know you're in for an atypical movie.

The thing that's so shocking about The House of Yes is that from early on, it saves itself from the mediocrity of those "look how wacky my family is" bringing the fiancee home romantic comedies. Yes, it does feature a timid fiancee, as well as a certifiable family, but its about their relationship and their interactions rather than situational mishaps. Sure, it takes it to weird new places, but I can guarantee you, even as it gets increasingly disturbing, it never gets boring.

This is where the script comes in. It's easy to say that this is probably one of the more memorable instances of writing in recent history (since the movie came out in 1997) and that's something to be said. It has all the elements of dark comedy, which the opening monologue makes abundantly clear, with the added elements of camp and melodrama just to heighten the tension, with the most bizarre/satisfying wordplay. Seriously, sometimes it reads like something out of Oscar Wilde. It's so elaborate and so rapidfire, but not in a distracting way. It gives you an idea that these people are intimate and know each other (after all, they should since Marty and Jackie-O are twins) and just adds to the bizarre dynamic.

Still, it's just as much the script as it is the actors and actresses I suppose. Parker Posey is delightfully over-the-top in her performance. It's impossible to imagine it played any other way. She's charming one moment and then she can just turn it off instantaneously. Even Tori Spelling, who plays Lesly the unwelcome fiancee, is surprisingly fantastic in her role. She can play the role of the "simple girl" incredibly well, considering she's never been given a whole lot of chances. Marty, played by Josh Hamilton, isn't incredibly memorable, but he can hold his own among the other cast members, including a young Freddie Prinze Jr. who plays his brother Arthur, and a hilariously creepy mother played by Genevieve Bujold.

While I wouldn't recommend The House of Yes to just anyone, it is definitely a movie worth checking out for fans of dark comedy and disturbing family dramas. While it does have its flaws (I might even say that it goes a little too far in certain places) it more than makes up for them with comedic elements. An odd directorial debut for Mean Girls director Mark Waters, this movie embraces it's deviation from the normal in a delightful and disturbing manner.

Suspicion

Suspicion is undoubtedly one of the most aggravating emotional experiences one can feel. It infects you like a disease and can find a way to make you completely question yourself and just about everyone you've ever loved. That's what's at the heart of Hitchcock's 1941 film, which takes the question of "How well do you know your spouse?" and puts a deadly spin on it.

Cary Grant is charming as the (possibly?) homicidal spouse, Johnnie. He says all the right things and has all the right moves, but does he have Lina's best intentions at heart? Or is he just another man who's after her father's fortune? What's important to understand is that this idea has been done before. It's not an offering of anything new and it doesn't ever really pretend to be. It's not even a story that you'll stop hearing any time soon (Will Smith will produce and star in a remake due out next year) but instances of trite and cliched stories, what can you do? You can make them the best that you possibly can, which is what Hitchcock does with this film.

Perhaps the most memorable part of the film (and I am turning my film geek on for this) is the cinematography. Having had to shoot in black and white before, I know how difficult it can be, but the shot of Johnnie bringing the glass of milk to his newly wed wife in bed? It's absolutely stunning for any movie. The contrast between black and white is simultaneously beautiful and horrifying.

But back to the story. Honestly, the most disheartening aspect of the movie is its ending. The pacing, the establishment of character, and the tension are built up beautifully up until the end where, no doubt, the motion picture association of America felt we "needed a win". The ending is basically the very definition of a cop out. it defies all of the character traits that had been nuanced and even outright indicated over the course of the movie.

I can't lie and say that I'm excited for Will Smith's take on a classic. I haven't valued his opinion in anything else before and it's not likely that I'll start now. However, it is my hope that this movie may take its ending more seriously. God knows studio execs are still tampering with movies to make them more "palatable" but this movie has already been desecrated enough with its ending, either don't let Will SMith do it or shoot the original ending!

Suspicion remains one of my favorite Hitchcock movies, despite its flaws. It's beautiful and engaging as a thriller. Cary Grant is charming as always and Joan Fontaine is a beautiful disaster waiting to happen all through out the movie. In the end, the fact that the movie doesn't really pay out can't be ignored, but until then, it's a fun and wild ride.

The Virgin Spring: Brutal or Boring?

It's, like, a requirement to have seen at least one Ingmar Bergman movie before graduating from film school. That being said, Bergman doesn't tend to captivate a whole lot of people except the serious cinephile. Even though I'm a fan of a lot of his ideas, something never really translates from me as the idea is brought to life. The perfect example is his 1960 film, which even went so far as to win the Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film, The Virgin Spring.

A lot of you may be familiar with it, but may not know it just yet. It was the inspiration for Wes Craven's Last House on the Left. However, unlike the horror film, The Virgin Spring left me with practically no emotion. I'd read descriptions about this haunting, tragic, and beautiful movie, but was never once affected by any of these descriptors. In fact, the girl who is raped and killed in the movie is perhaps the most annoying character. I felt for the parents' grief, but I didn't care about the girl in the slightest, which kind of creates a problem.

In fact, most of the characters were less than likable. I understand it could've been an attempt to shows that "we are all human" but when you're relying on their pain and suffering to emotionally affect the audience, a little more time spent with these characters might be helpful.

However, this is far from Bergman's fault. I can't help but blame Craven. Is Last House on the Left the know-all end-all of movies? God no, but the violence and depravity of it, which may have been in The Virgin Spring for audiences in 1960, has pretty much left me de-sensitized to its source material. As disturbing as it may sound, had there been more focus on the heinousness of the act, rather than the 2 minutes it takes up on screen, maybe I could have felt the outrage that was supposed to be felt.

Finally, The Virgin Spring is a religious film. It's not indoctrination or propaganda, but religion plays a crucial role in the film. That being said, I have no qualms with the fact that I am not a religious man. Therefore, some of the instances where religion is directly addressed left me even more uncomfortable than the scenes of violence. Others were scenes where the references simply went over my head.

The Virgin Spring should be noted as a film of importance. The other films it has inspired alone, cement its status as an important film. That being said, although I'm glad I saw it, it remains one of those films that's better studied in a film class than it is watched in a casual viewing.

Pregnant Asians...

Now I know even the title makes this sound like it's going to be awful, but I swear, if you just bear with me, you'll see where I'm going with this. Think about how many Asians there are out there. I know, I know, it's a pretty abstract thought, but just try to imagine, considering it's a pretty sizable population. I mean, living in Chicago alone, you see tons of Asian people on the street, obviously especially in Chinatown.

Now, if you can, try to remember all the pregnant Asians you've seen. I know it sounds ridiculous, but considering the size of the Asian population, I've never seen a pregnant Asian. It sounds absurd, I know, but I was on the train last night and I think I spotted my first one. (I love how I make it sound like I'm hunting an elusive wild bird or something instead of just talking about Asian people...) At least, I think she was pregnant. She was sitting a few seats away from me and her shirt was sort of loose fitting, but I swear I could make out a bump.

That little rant of course brings me to my next rant, not about Asians in particular, but about pregnant women in general. I almost typed folks there, but yeah, I feel pretty safe in boiling it down to women. Now I agree with most ladies out there that there's a ridiculous standard of beauty set for women. But then again, every rule has its limits. Everyone has at least one story of their friend or a relative who's asked when the baby was due only to find out that the person in question suffered from a "glandular problem". I'm so glad that the woman was sitting far enough away from me that I wasn't in any danger of having to strike up a conversation with her, but perhaps I could have been more discreet in trying to figure out whether it was baby weight or just plain, well, weight.

But I digress. Think on it some and get back to me because I'm really curious about this. Have many people seen many Asians. Of course, one of the guys I know is half Japanese so he has, but seriously, I haven't seen many of them. I even thought up this elaborate system where I think Asian folks have babies like Tamogachis (borderline racist? perhaps... but I swear I didn't mean anything by it) but still, something about that just doesn't seem right so I'd like for other people to weigh in on this one. Let me know about your encounters with pregnant Asians. Actually, let me take that back. As I re-read it, it's starting to sound like some creepy fetish website...

Feeling of Accomplishment Does NOT Come Standard with Diploma

A diploma means something. It shows that you've persevered for years to finally make it through the system and, for most people, in the case of undergrad, it signifies that the real world will hit them like a ton of bricks any second now. So why does it feel so anti-climactic?

I was running around campus trying to pick up all of my recs and transcripts that I needed for my grad school application. While there, my friend told me that she needed to pick up her diploma, no big deal. So we eventually track down the small hole-in-the-wall where diplomas and records are held. She tells the guy at the desk all of her information and he runs to grab the diploma.

While we're waiting, I look over at the pick-up calendar. Dec. 19, 2009 graduation date? Diplomas are ready for pick up. So after the nice guy is done helping my friend, I ask him about my diploma and he grabs it as well. He gets me a diploma holder and everything and we're on our merry way.

That was about 2 or 3 days ago. The first day, I accidentally left it on my friend's chair and forgot about it. Since then, I've learned the errors of my ways. If you're going to forget about something, forget it someplace that's actually yours. So I decided to toss it into my super awesome Star wars backpack... where it has stayed for at least the past 36 hours.

I mean, if the Star Wars backpack isn't proof enough that I'm not ready for the real world, what is? I mean, where's the feeling of accomplishment? I'm finally done and I've got the diploma to prove it. I know I struggled with the same feelings when I first graduated. But now I have the proof, something I can actually hold in my hands and still nothing.

Man, I have to say, it's things like this that make me glad that I opted not to walk. There's not a whole lot of meaning in these traditions and rituals if they don't affect you, whether it be mentally or emotionally. Maybe I'll just give it to my dad for father's day. He's always been more of a sentimentalist than I am.

My Deaf Family: A Reality TV Show Finally Worth Looking Into

I'm not a reality TV fan. I'm not going to pretend I don't enjoy the occasional episode of "Hoarders" or "Intervention", because I definitely do, but the concept of being a voyeur in people's lives who are in some way extraordinary, whether it be because they have a ton of kids or some crazy lifestyle, seemed ridiculous to me. Why not be extraordinary yourself? I know it's easier said than done, but when it comes down to it, I just don't enjoy the sensationalization that's at heart in most of these reality shows.

The idea that a reality show could be so legitimate and emotionally sincere had never really closed my mind until today, when I got around to watching Marlee Matlin's TV pilot for a reality show about a hearing child in a deaf family, called "My Deaf Family". Sure, it's not something that a ton of people are familiar with or may even be able to relate to when it comes to the daily drama of being a hearing kid in a deaf family, but then again, most of the show focuses with just how relatable they are.

Sure, they're forced to do some things differently (like order pizza over video relay which I never knew was possible, so that was actually kind of cool for me) but they are, literally, just your average family. They deal with the cards that life has dealt them and there may be some difficulties, but it's the closest representation to a "normal" family unit that I've seen in recent TV history. The father of the family, Leslie, states it perfectly in the pilot when he says that he prefers to think of being deaf as an identity rather than a disability.

My biggest fear, as awful as it may sound, is that after the pilot that it will get picked up. I know that's the point of a show, but I can honestly say that within the 10 minutes of the pilot, I'm already too attached to the family. I've seen what happens to reality show families. I've seen what the media turns them in to and the disruption of normalcy. Although I hate to admit it "Jon and Kate Plus 8" is the perfect example of this. After watching just the pilot, I don't want that kind of future for these people. I would certainly continue to watch if they continued to distribute it on Youtube, and I'd probably watch if it eventually got picked up by TLC or some other network, but there's still that fear for me. These people have a good thing going for them in their lives and while I understand the desire to show middle America how deaf families are just like any others, I'm worried that the reality TV format will corrupt as it's done so many other times.

No Pun Intended

No pun intended. We've all heard it said, usually after some cringe worthy one-liner. But here's the thing, do people veer say it and really mean it? I mean, isn't saying "oh, no pun intended" just calling attention to the pun itself? You'd really think that you'd want to avoid doing that, but doesn't ever really seem to stop people from saying it.

And the thing is, the only reason people really ever say it is when they're trying to cover their own asses. You'll never hear the phrase so many times as when you're with someone who thinks that they're hilarious, but nobody else really does. It's like it's supposed to be a bandaid for the awkward silence when nobody laughs at your terrible joke, but for all you folks out there who are throwing "no pun intended" around? Yeah, this blogger's caught on to you.

So, if you are a "no pun" kind of guy or gal, I've got a little advice for you. First and foremost, like I said, quit calling attention to yourself and your lame sense of humor. It sounds harsh, but it's the truth that nobody else is telling you. Believe me, when you're making an ass out of yourself, everybody else is uncomfortable too.

Secondly, it just doesn't work like that. It's like when people say "No offense, but..." and then they say something horrific like "all gays and Jews should be relocated to West Hollywood". Um... yeah, that's still offensive, even with the disclaimer. Consider "no pun intended" the same way. It offends me. It offends my comedic sensibility. So just cut it out!

Finally, I just plain don't believe you. I'm not calling these folks liars, but honestly, puns are pretty intentional. Okay, sometimes they just work themselves into conversation. For example, when you're at a funeral and somebody says "How's school?" and you say "Ugh, there's a lot of make-up work. It'll be the death of me." (True story, and easily the most mortifying experience of my life) But it's usually cases like that, where you're so horrified that you made the most inappropriate pun conceivable. When people use them for comedic effect, I'm not going to lie and say that I don't laugh because I usually do. Hell, doesn't everyone? I'm just saying, "no pun intended" is, like, the most deliberate phrase in the English language. Just own it and accept the fact that nobody laughed at your joke.

So for all you "no pun intender"ers out there, I hope you've learned a valuable lesson. And for those of you that don't use the phrase? Please, do this lowly writer favor and don't start. I assure you nothing good can come of it.

Okay... Now What?

The truth hurts folks. After months of looking for a job, and only several weeks of being at one, things are not looking up. Even though it's always nice to get a paycheck, sometimes you have to think about the expense to your emotional, mental, and physical well-being.

This job was supposed to alleviate financial stress which, I'll give it that. It's nice to have a steady income, but sanity is another factor that shouldn't be discounted.

Since beginning work, I've found myself, evidently at ends with a few bosses, making countless mistakes, and becoming more miserable than I thought humanly possible. The problem is, if I don't stay here, where do I go from here? After several outbursts of stress hives (yes, they're a real thing) I'm not sure how much more I can take. Even worse is the people that it affects. Peak hours for a concert venue are the summer so quitting now might hurt a lot of other people.

I don't know, sorry, I hate faux introspective angsty writing, but it's been a big distraction lately so an entry of any other sort would've just been shallow and sub-par.

Thanks for listening to the whining (especially from a guy who, otherwise, has it pretty good) and hope nobody else is in the same situation.

The Blockbuster of Baker Street

As an admitted Guy Ritchie fanatic (Okay, but to be fair, did ANYBODY enjoy Swept Away or Revolver?) I was a little nervous for his first PG-13 movie. I mean, half of what there is to love about his rough around the edge characters from previous movies is their delightfully foul mouths. That paired with my little to no experience with Sherlock Holmes, aside from The Young Sherlock Holmes and a very special Wishbone in which the jack-russell played the famous sleuth, and you have a sizable amount of concern.

However, when watching the film, I found myself surprisingly entertained. Admittedly, there was nothing too engrossing (I think I checked my e-mail once or twice during it) but it was fun and it didn't seem like the movie was aiming for much more than that. I mean, sure it's got your standard explosions and fight scenes, but once again, as is usually the case with a Guy Ritchie movie, he takes familiar material (after all Lock Stock, Snatch, and RockNRolla are pretty much all the same movie) and makes it feel new again.

Let's be real, he doesn't do it with innovative plot twists, although I was quite impressed with the conclusion of Sherlock Holmes, but he finds a way to make his movies seem alive through the editing. The editing kept me on my toes and engaged in a way that only Guy Ritchie movies can do.

However, I shouldn't give all the credit to details like editing. Robert Downey Jr. is captivating (as he pretty much always is to me) in the role of Sherlock Holmes with an impressive comedic sensibility in the role. I wasn't so much nervous about him in the role of Sherlock as I was about the role itself being stuffy and condescending. However, I should've known better with the director/star team. Even Jude Law seems to be mildly likable in the role of Watson.While he's certainly no scene stealer, he's able to hold his own in this movie with help from Downey Jr. The two really do make a fine pair as the crime-solving duo.

Still, just as much credit belongs to Rachel McAdams, who plays Irene Adler in the movie. She's intoxicating in the role of the femme fatale. I found myself always suspicious of her motives, but disarmed by her charm and beauty. I can imagine that this is exactly what they were going for and if so, it certainly worked.

Finally, as is the case with most of these types of movies, the villain Lord Blackwood, played by Mark Strong, is perhaps one of the most interesting characters. I wished that he'd had more screen time, but every time he was in the scene, I found myself captivated by him. Although there could have been more character development, he was so terrifically evil in the role that I was torn by the end of the movie.

All in all, Sherlock Holmes is by no means a perfect movie and can seem a little flat in some parts, but is the energy and conviction of the cast and the characters they play that kept me watching. Combined with the trademark editing of director Guy Ritchie's previous films, which is an admittedly unlikely pairing, and you have a thoroughly enjoyable blockbuster well worth your time.

Adulthood... Are We There Yet?

What is adulthood? If you're anything like me, or if you've ever lived past the age of 18, you've no doubt found yourself asking this question. Now, granted, I understand that varies from person to person, but was it that we all seem to be after in an effort to "grow up"? Whatever that means...

We're told from a young age what adulthood means, or at least I was... it was a set of responsibilities and/or obligations. I'm pretty sure it was the simplest answer that my parents could give me to get me out of their hair, but there's some truth to it. It is about the responsibilities that are eventually piled upon us. But most of us have had responsibilities before. I mean, sure they were more in the vein of mowing the lawn than paying your mortgage, but it implies adulthood is a gradual thing that grow into it. I don't know about everyone else, but gradual isn't the way I'd describe it. I'm suddenly no longer a kid and I get that it's 'time to grow up" and everything, but I don't feel like an adult yet even with a mediocre and unsatisfying job (and after all, isn't that what we're always told it's about?).

So I find myself asking this question again and again, because I don't feel like an adult, not yet at least. So what is it? What does adulthood mean? As I clamor to reach it, I find myself more and more confused. Is it emotional? If it's an emotional state, I'm screwed. I reached emotional maturity at a relatively young age. This doesn't mean I'm done in the maturity department, but if you ask a lot of folks my age, they'll tell you that we were pretty much forced to emotionally mature at a young age (divorce, death, and pretty much all your standard depressing stuff).

It can't be financial. Most of us are facing college debt (I'm one of the lucky ones) so full financial freedom seems a long way's away. To an extent, with bills and loans it shows definite progress, but it can't be purely financial or else us art school grads are stuck in pubescent limbo.

Which brings me to another area that's been considered, and perhaps the most literal. That would, of course be physical. Is adulthood a physical change? I mean, we notice our bodies going through physical changes as we prepare to enter adulthood (oh God, I sound like a 7th grade health teacher) but, I don't know, that just seems too obvious.

The fact of the matter is a refuse to believe the obvious. I've lost sleep over this question so if it's obvious as all that, try and sell that somewhere else, because I'm not buying it. Now, I don't think any of these one areas is the definitive answer. I get that there's a lot of complexity to the question of adulthood. I'm just hoping I find out soon, because this in the middle business couldn't get worse. Until then, my friend explained adulthood in a simple way to me that I liked. Adulthood is when you're old enough to say "oh shit" and really mean it.

The Ugly Truth About Ugly Babies

Alright, I have something to say and I'm going to go ahead and pretend like people on the internet listen to me. I know there are a lot of silly things out there that we all choose to believe, like every student is special or that that guy who hasn't called back 2 days after the first date MIGHT still call, but there's one thing I've seen enough of and I cannot in good conscience let it continue.

This harsh reality has to do with babies. No, it's not that I'm 22 and my paternal clock is ticking or that I am in fact the Lindbergh baby re-incarnated, but rather about other people and their babies. I know you want to show them off and believe me, women, I support your right. After carrying something around me for 9 months and pushing it out of your lady parts, to say you've earned the right is the understatement of the year. But the truth is, there are babies out there that, plain and simple, just aren't cute.

This isn't a statement on the character and I could see how it could be perceived as an insult to the parents (which is probably why I'll never saw that to their faces) but there are babies out there that are just ugly as sin. It doesn't mean they'll stay ugly, but infancy just doesn't take to some babies like it does others.

I'll give you an example of one of those kids that I've seen on the train. He couldn't have been more than 6 months, but seriously, he looked like a mini- old man. His skin was wrinkled and pruny, his hair was in tufts, and I'll admit, the clearly soiled diaper probably wasn't helping the kid. Now I'm not saying to straight up tell people "hey guys, great job on the sex part, but better luck next time on the end result..." but can we just stop fawning over abby pictures all the time?

I say this as a man who enjoys kids (get your mind out of the gutter, you know what I mean) and hopes to have one someday, so I can't really play the cynical card on this one, so I guess I'll just have to roll with the ugly truth instead (no pun intended). That being said, I can't understand where parents are coming from that they want to brag about their child, but what I mean is, it always seems that people try to over-compliment ugly babies to make up for the fact that they're ugly.

It's a harsh truth that no matter how many times "precious" is thrown about, ugly is still ugly. The best I can do is hope that it's an awkward phase that they grow out of, but I'm certainly not going to try to bluff my way out of it. The fact of the matter is, even ugly babies usually have one crowning characteristic. Highlight that and you're set. Parents are guaranteed to be pleased, you haven't hurt the baby's un-manifested ego, and hopefully they won't ever ask you about him/her again.

Alice and the Witches of Wonderland

Released by Disney, the film adaptation of Lewis Carroll’s already bizarre tale has been the subject of much speculation concerning its content. In modern day society, it serves as a beacon for various counter culture groups, specifically the drug community for its use of language and the visual. However, the simple fact that Alice is a girl who is readying herself to become a “lady” make this film an interesting sort of coming of age story. Although Alice’s lessons from her tutor under the shade of the tree only take up about 5 of the film’s miniscule 75 minutes, it sets us as viewers up for an escape. Alice makes it clear in no uncertain terms that she is unready for what the world offers her as an alternative to her childish even somewhat tom boyish behavior for which her tutor scolds her. This leads to her abandonment of the traditional ideals of what a “lady” should be and even the “real world”.
When she arrives in Wonderland, she is introduced to a variety of characters. What is interesting is that, even though animals, most of these characters are assigned what we typically think of as male characteristics. As a matter of fact, very few female characters are made mention of in the film. For instance, in the “real world”, for lack of a better term, besides Alice there is only her tutor, viewed largely as an oppressive figure, forcing these boring lessons of etiquette on our female protagonist. However, in Wonderland, amongst the wild cast of characters, only two recognizably female characters stand out. These characters serve as extremist representations of what, arguably, most men thought of women at the time.
The first feminine figures that Alice encounters in Wonderland are the flowers. The flowers skin-deep beauty is a reminder that women of the time were supposed to remain constantly aware of the fact that they are being watched. Not only this, but to remain attractive in the eyes of their observers, there was no real need for anything other than a colorful display to attract the male gaze. At first glance, Alice takes no issue with this. She even engages in conversation with the flowers, however, it is soon exposed that the flowers are far from beautiful. Almost as soon as they welcome Alice into their world, they quickly turn on her at the mention of her possibly being a weed. She is not only subjected to verbal abuse, but is almost washed away as the flowers pour raindrops on her. She is cast out at the very mention of her being anything less than desirable. A weed is not only one of the lowest life forms in the world of botany, but most importantly, it’s infectious. It spreads its seeds of discontent and tarnishes the beautiful wild flowers that grow around it. Although heavy handed, this is a tragically accurate portrayal of most social circles in the time period. People were not only obligated to portray themselves in a positive light, but those that they surrounded themselves with. Upon being declared an undesirable and being thrown out, Alice has learned her first lesson about the real world in Wonderland. To say that all women were like this at the time would be a disturbing generalization, but the wild flowers in Alice in Wonderland serve as a reminder of the superficiality and the worry of the contamination of one’s social status that was an inherent aspect of 1950s culture, which we’ve seen in other films such as Gidget, where Gidget’s friends abandon her after she fails to attract the attention of any of the young surfers.
The other, perhaps more memorable female of the film, is the Queen of Hearts. With a name that makes one think of compassion and care, the presentation of the Queen is jarring to say the least. She is an object of fear to all of the inhabitants of Wonderland. Although her husband is such a minor part of the film, the King’s fear of her is palpable. He curtails to her every desire. Even the animals that are used to play croquet know to let the Queen win. She is a symbol of unchecked aggression. It’s almost as if she serves as a warning to Alice, of what could become of her when she leaves Wonderland. Alice’s lack of interest in becoming a lady is only set up in a few minutes of the film, but the film illustrates the consequences of her disinterest. In short, the Queen of Heart, who is herself an emasculating, domineering woman who strikes fear into the very heart of Alice, is a warning of what Alice could become. However, just as important as her behavior, it’s just as crucial how we, as the audience, see her. She is a short, fat woman with jet-black hair. If we examine the sex symbols of the 50s, the pin-up girls and the Hollywood beauties, the most common image is a curvaceous blond. Although not confined to this image, the Queen of Hearts is most certainly the antithesis of these women. The Queen of Hearts, having no beauty either inner or outer, illustrates the dismal fate of Alice is she continues down the path she seems to have chosen. At the end of the film, after being subjected to the madness of men and women alike in Wonderland, Alice’s fate is pretty well decided. For fear of her Wonderland realized, Alice heeds the words of her tutor. She has essentially been scared straight into a lesson of conformity where she will adhere to the strict rules of polite society or face the wrath of an unhappy and perhaps unwedded future.

Whatever Happened to Greatness?

They say being in the presence of greatness is something palpable. You can feel it in your bones and in every fiber of your being. Now I'm not sure who "they" are but I can't help but feel like they're onto something.

Me? I've never been great. I'm not even claiming to be great now. Hell, I can't even imagine trying for greatness, but I don't want to go too far and say something I can't take back. It'd be a nice thing to be great or to do something great or even to think something great and put it to paper.

That's how desperate we are for great ideas, that I'd be content to even think one. The trouble is, they're harder to think than they seem to be achieve. I'm not saying it's easy to achieve greatness, but it's probably a lot simpler AFTER you've come up with a plan for world peace or alternative energy.

But like I said, I'm not great. It's something I've lived with everyday so after 22 years, it's something that I've come to terms with. No, this isn't a plea for self-pity, because as I write this, I think about the people that I'm putting this out to and how most of us are in the same boat. Greatness isn't an easy thing to come by (even though our parents and teachers also tell us that we're "special")... that's probably what makes it so "great".

Still, I can't help but wonder, is this notion, this idea of greatness even alive in us anymore? Sure we all want it (but the very point of it is that we can't ALL have it) but what are we doing about it? Is anyone even actively seeking it? You don't hear a whole lot of stories on the news or from friends that seem to suggest that it's something most of us even try for anymore.

The fact is, we live in the day and age of mediocrity. Being able to get by, nothing more and nothing less, is our claim to fame these days. I can't sound accusatory though, because I suffer this affliction just like everybody else. Even our products for mass consumption, the movies we see, the books we read, etc. are far from special. I mean, look at some of the best selling books recently. The Twilight Saga (no, I'm not just picking on Twilight fans because I dislike the series) is mediocre at best. The story has been done before and the writing itself is atrocious (picture a middle-aged woman writing fan fic and you've got the basic grammatical structure of one of these books).

Our society has given way to pop culture over true talent. It's hard to believe that any of the Twilight books would've made such a huge splash had we not lived in society where pop culture was revered (especially as the vampire craze took hold). The sad truth of the matter is we cashed in on the idea of greatness in exchange for something far less.

Once again, I can't make it clear enough that I'm not exempt. Maybe it isn't Twilight, but I have plenty of vices that render me a victim of our pop-culture driven society. Still, I'd like to think that someone out there (and hopefully not just me) is questioning tjis concept of greatness. maybe they can offer some answers on when we sold out and where we go from here.