Control Those Rugrats

I dimed on two kids today. A part of me felt bad, for about a second; then I got over it real quick.

Here in Inwood there's a strong Native American community, I assume/guess because it's one of the (if not the only) last remaining natural areas in Manhattan. Story has it that the area of Inwood Hill Park is where Manhattan was sold to the Dutch, and the hilly area still holds caves once used by the Lenape tribe, among others.

Anyway. Today was a festival of sorts call Drums Along the Hudson, a celebration of Native American heritage as well as a tribute to all native/indigenous peoples. The weather was absolutely fantastic, and it was a great day to be out in the park reconnecting with Mother Earth.

So here I am, sitting by the riverside with a friend when along comes Hansel and Gretel. Hansel whips out a slingshot and exlaims, happily, "Look I'll get another one!" - and proceeds to shoot a pebble at the ducks in the water while his sister giggles with malicious glee.

Of course I called them on it. "Hey, quit shooting at the ducks!" Little bastards totally ignored me, and of course there's no parent in sight. But...there is a park ranger, walking by totally oblivious to Damien and his sister Lilith.

I call out to her, and tell her these kids are shooting at the ducks. She gives me this condescending look - the kids are blond, fair skinned...and here I am looking like Anton LeVey's protege in goth/tribal denim. "I haven't seen them do anything..." she begins.

Then freezes mid-sentence as the Demon Princess pulls back on the slingshot for a power shot. "Hey you kids!" she shouts, rushing over to scold them on the wrongness of their actions. I even heard the little monster tell her "Well some other kids were shooting at the birds in the sky", like that excused him for shooting at the ducks in the water.

She did give them a decent lecture, which I was glad to see. She also made a point of avoiding my eye as she walked off, realizing how close she came to sounding like a judgemental moron by blowing me off.

But parents. What do you really think your kids are going to do with a slingshot when you buy it for them, hmmm? Line up coke bottles on the picket fence in their backyard? Use some common sense, people; sheesh.

Ninten-No Clue

I am such a video console snob.

I stopped buying Nintendo years ago because in my now-adult brain, Nintendo = kiddie games. They've never shaken that image, and with the advent of the DS games like NintenDogs, I don't expect to change my mind anytime soon.

That said, I'm curious to see what they come up with in their latest console system design which they've named: "Wii".

Yep. Wii. Which is pronounced, "We". As if, I suppose, to make you go "Wheee", but I keep finding myself mispronouncing it "Why", as in "why are you even bothering to ask me for money?"

I thought the Game Cube, back when it was just a rumor, had the potential to bring me back to Nintendo. Then I heard the development name: the Dolphin.

Somehow, the name "Dolphin" does not bring up cyber-cool imagery. No self-respecting gamer would stand on line for hours overnight, waiting to be the first one to pick up a game console called a "Dolphin".

And yet, the name "Game Cube" wasn't that much more of an improvement. At the worst it invoked apathy; "oooo, a Cube. Wow." At best? "oooo, a Cube. Wow."

So when I heard that the development name for their latest foray was the Nintendo Revolution, I had hope. The Revolution. Viva la Revolution! I mean, that name had potential! Fight the power, man! Power to the people! I can SEE the campaign, and it gives me goosebumps how incredibly effective it could be.

Instead, we get the Nintendo Wii. "Wii are the world". Michelle Wii. Wii the People. Wiibles Wobble but they Don't Fall Down.

Sorry Nintendo. Looks like Sony's got a lock on my cash once again.

Kismet

Okay, so I'm flying a little higher than I was when I wrote my last post. I've tried like mad to find copies of those issues of Rainbow Magazine back in the mid 80s; I really just want to find the issues where my programs were published, so I can copy the pages, seal them up and hang them on my wall. Good memories.

I'd found a website that did little more than whet my appetite: http://www.the-e-mall.net/netcat.htm . Of course none of the "add to cart" options worked; it was a dead site, not much more than a tease. Still; just knowing that there were other Rainbow/CoCo owners still out there, still reflecting on their cult-like love of this machine...

You have to understand; Tandy had no clue what they had. They marketed it horribly, despite it being a fantastic 8-bit low end machine. It was, in my opinion, vastly superior to its competition at the time - the Commordore Vic-20, the Commodore 64, and the Atari 400/800 home computers.

Anyway, I'm going off subject. The point is I've looked for copies of these mags for some time now, with no success.

Until now!

Freaking eBay, I fucking love you! Holy crap, someone is actually selling off their collection from 1984-1986 - exactly the years I started reading Rainbow!! I wish they had 1983 in their collection (my true start time), but hey - i'm not looking a gift horse in the mouth.

I WILL win this dammned auction; no way in hell am I going to let this chance pass me by. If by some freak chance I don't, I'm emailing the winner and begging them to look through and scan me copies. Fuck, I'll gladly pay for it - I'm not letting this chance pass me by.

Goddamn, I'm excited! Stay tuned.

Back(space) to the Future

Anyone remember this?

10 INPUT "What is your name: "; U$
20 PRINT "Hello "; U$
30 REM
40 INPUT "How many stars do you want: "; N
50 S$ = ""
60 FOR I = 1 TO N
70 S$ = S$ + "*"
80 NEXT I
90 PRINT S$
100 REM
110 INPUT "Do you want more stars? "; A$
120 IF LEN(A$) = 0 THEN GOTO 110
130 A$ = LEFT$(A$, 1)
140 IF (A$ = "Y") OR (A$ = "y") THEN GOTO 40
150 PRINT "Goodbye ";
160 FOR I = 1 TO 200
170 PRINT U$; " ";
180 NEXT I
190 PRINT

If you were a tech-head back in the 70s or 80s, then you'll instantly recognize this as the old BASIC programming language.

I got into a conversation with a co-worker today where I found myself espousing on the history of programming languages and the advent of the home PC. I remember my excitement when, having outgrown my Tandy MC-10 computer's 4K of ram (!), I saved up enough money to buy myself the 16K expansion module to increase my internal memory to a then-massive 20K! Wow!

This was purely a hobbyist or beginner's machine - but hey, I was 15 and this was my first computer! I taught myself how to program using this thing, and I still have fond memories of it even with stats like this:
- 32x16 text screen;
- low-res of 64x32, with 8 colors;
- high-res of 256x192, with 2 colors;
- I/O ports: serial interface, cassette interface

That's it, folks. I plugged this puppy into my television using a signal splitter and BAM! I was a hacker, baby!

I can look back and remember with so much fondness, all the "advances" I made back then. Upgrading to the 128K ram Color Computer 3 (it cost me $199 from Radio Shack, half of which I had to save up for and the other half my mom put up as a christmas gift); getting my very first 5-1/4" floppy disk drive (a later gift from my dad). Learning to program joystick commands for game input. Getting published in Rainbow Magazine, a publication for Tandy users that printed programming code (I'd KILL to be able to order copies of these mags!)

I look at computers today - and the people using them - and realize how far we've come. Using a computer in this age is a given; the idea of a home without one is unthinkable. The computer is to my generation what the telephone must have been to my grandparents'; we take it for granted that everyone has one, everyone knows how to use one. If we find someone who hasn't we look at them like circus freaks, odd beings from another planet. Primatives, who need to be taught.

I'm rambling. This trip down memory lane is bringing on the good vibrations, so I'm just going to enjoy the ride.

Of course, the coconut rum I just had is probably adding to the eurphoria. But why dwell on it? :)

Just Do It

True story, this.

I got on the subway tonight, somewhat tired - had a volleyball game, like usual. I had the headphones on, and I've got a Sony model with the silcon earbuds that block out most exterior noise. It's like putting your head underwater and listening to the world around you.

Anyway, so I'm on the train, listening to music, when I notice the people sitting down in front of me are talking about someone else in the car. They're pointedly gesturing towards the seats behind me, so I glance back. There's someone on one of the corner seats, sitting alone, slumped over and out cold. Not unusual, had this been a Friday or Saturday night - but for a Monday, it's a little odd.

I pop an earphone so I can listen to the chatter, and of course they're speaking Spanglish so I haven't a clue - but I'm good at reading conversations, and it's pretty obvious that all these people in this half of the car are worried as to whether or not this person is just unconscious....or worse.

Yeah.

I'm looking around, and apparently the whole half of the car is in on this. They're all looking, shrugging, gesturing, obviously concerned - but doing so from the safety of their seats.

I'm...annoyed now. Disgusted. I look at them like "just HOW long have you been sitting there talking about it?", shake my head and just say "Oh fuck this". I mean really people, this is stupid. And I walk over to the passed out person, and tap their shoulder.

Nada.

I tap again. Nothing.

This time I give a shake. Nothing. Now I'm thinking, "oh shit", and lean down for a better look. I reach my hand over to the neck, cuz now I'm thinking I should look for a pulse. The person is a little androngynous, but I can see now it's a girl so I give her one last hard shake on the shoulder.

She pops her head up, eyes sleepy, looking around like "whaaaa...?"

Behind me, I hear a collective sigh and nervous laughter. A whole goddamned car of people were watching me, nervous like the chickenshit fucks they are.

I shouldn't be mad, but I am. This is why shit happens in this city, because good people do nothing when their moment comes. What if that person really had passed out, needed help? What if the EMTs came, and said if only someone had stopped the train a few minutes earlier, contacted them sooner - maybe they could have helped her, saved her life.

People don't want to get involved; they care, but they don't want to be the one to discover the body. These are the people who can smell the strange odor coming out of the old woman's apartment, but who are too afraid of what they might find to go and knock on the door. These are the people who see the man stumble and fall in a drunken swoon, but don't stop to make sure that he's conscious and okay.

I'm not a saint, far from it. If and when there's a rapture, I'll be here waiting for the apocalypse with all the other hellions. When we're down in the abyss, I'm expecting to get VIP seating at the front of the queue.

But I do care about people, maybe more than I should. And if I'm ever the one you see passed out on the subway...do me a favor. Poke me.

I'd rather be disturbed from a sleep than left to die.

What About Brian?

I really hate this show.

Look don't get me wrong, it's nothing personal against ABC or the actors. But really...am I supposed to sympathize with Couple #1, who are about to get married only because the guy, planning to break up with his girlfriend, instead freaks out and proposes? And is now having second doubts?

Or...am I supposed to feel for Couple #1, the married couple in the friendship with 3 kids, who don't get to have sex and whose wife is now going through her own midlife crisis, regretting everything she didn't get to do - so now wants an open marriage, and has just cheated on her husband?

Maybe I should feel more for Couple #3. The woman is older than the others, married a much younger guy, and has put off the whole family thing for years - and now wants to have kids, but is finding out she's in that miniscule 5% chance of success bracket.

Yeah, I'm not feeling shit for these folks. Maybe that makes me cruel, but hell - all I want to do is tell these people to get over themselves, welcome to the real world.

I do, however, feel a little something for the title character. Brian.

Not because I think he's a sympathetic figure, no; he's the only single one in this friendship of 7, the one they all try to hook up, the one all the guys are living vicariously through.

He's also the one who's madly in love with the girl in Couple #1, the finance of his best friend.

Yeah. Thats gotta suck.

But I feel for him, because I can understand the feeling. A whole lot more than I care to admit.

I watch the show, and I ask myself...why? It isn't really that interesting, the acting is bland, the stories aren't all that gripping, and there's a severe lack of deep insight into these peoples minds. So why am I watching it?

I think because I'm rooting for Brian. I want him to get the girl of his dreams, I want to see his feelings come out on top. I want vindication for him, because...well, I don't think I'll ever get the satisfaction that I'm hoping to see him get.

Ironically, like his friends, I'm living vicariously through Brian - because I've been there. Hell, I *am* there, and I don't want to be there. I understand how this person might feel, I understand all the reasons why he might have kept quiet all these years.

You wish the feelings were gone, that you could just blink and they'd disappear so you can move on with your life. You ignore them, and you DO move on with your life. You love, you live, you don't think about what could have been.

But then some little thing happens, something small and random - and you think about that person, and you smile even while you feel as if everything inside of you is about to explode. It's frightening, that feeling; often I find myself looking for someone or something to mask that emotion, because I can't do it myself.

So yeah. You go get yours, Brian. Because maybe then there's hope for the rest of us.

Asking For An NYPD Beatdown

As kick-ass cool as this camera mount looks, let's be real folks. In this age of post-9/11 paranoia, who would be DUMB enough to use this?

Seriously, I can see the situation now. I bring my camera out to Central Park and think how fantastic it would be to get a long-range shot of those kids playing on the swings. I pull out my brand-spanking new, Russian-made Zenit-brand camera mount and line up a shot.

I hear a woman start screaming, but hey - it ain't my business, I'm just taking pictures. Right?

I figure I'll feel the impact of the bullets just a second or two before I hear the gunfire. This is New York, the words "Police, freeze, put the gun down" generally come AFTER the shots have been fired. When the cameras come, they'll be all "Well I saw he was lined up for his shot, I really didn't have time to think about asking him to surrender his weapon."

As I lay there in my hospital bed, tubes sticking out of every new orifice NYPD just gave me, I'll be thinking:

"I hope those pictures came out great!"

Celebrity Lookalikes

Everyone wants to be somebody, don't they? Well, there's a website where apparently you can do just that.

Myheritage.com advertises itself as a genealogy website where you can track your family history, but realistically the only reason I can see to go there is to use the "face recognition demo" they have to see what celebrity you look like.

You'll need a hi-res photo of yourself, preferably a close-up facial shot. I uploaded a 180x180, 70k jpeg headshot of myself to test this, and waited for the results to pop up.

And waited.

And waited.

I got hungry, made a sandwich, watched some television. Still comparing.

Played a few games, shaved. Wrote a biography. Visited some friends on the west coast. Came back...still comparing.

As near as I can figure they have an incredibly slow server; of course, I got a "time out error". Joy. So I start it up again, and wait some more.

It does this little countdown thing, where it shows you that it's filtering your image through its celebrity database of, I believe, starting around 1200 images.

I get down to around 150 before it timed me out. Again.

I'm persistant. Or stubborn, take you pick. But I'm determined to try again, with a different photo. I pick one with an even higher resolution, 437x431. Results? Much faster; the key is high res, folks, so stay away from those cameraphone pix!

The verdict is in. My lookalike?



Rock on, Sam.

Apple vs. Apple

I think, maybe, I may go out and buy a few dozen Beatles albums - because they're my new heroes!

The Beatles' corporate face, Apple Corps., has done the unthinkable and is suing Apple Computers over the entire iTunes franchise. Apple Corps, which of course is involved in the music industry, had first sued Apple Computer back in 1978 for trademark infringement. They settled in 1981 for $80,000 being paid to Apple Corps, and - here's the rub, Horatio - Apple Computer agreed to stay out of the music industry!

Hmm.

In 1989, Apple Corp sued AGAIN, claiming Apple Computer violated the settlement agreement, and again (in 1991) a settlement was reached for $26.5 million.

Round three. In 2003, Apple Corps YET AGAIN sued Apple Computer over it's introduction of the iTunes software, which Apple Corps believes was a violation of the previous agreement by Apple not to distribute music. The trial date was set for March 27th of 2006.

Today.

The looming question up for courtroom debate is whether iTunes Music Store sells physical music materials, such as CDs.

There is lots of speculation about the outcome of this latest dispute. Some analysts believe it may bring the biggest settlement anywhere in legal history outside of a class action suit. After all, Apple has tied its future to the iPod and tightly bundled it with iTunes. Some predict the suit could result in Apple Corps becoming a major share holder in Apple Computer, possibly with Paul McCartney as a board member.

Another possibility is that the court will order Apple Computer to remove its trademark from iTunes and iPods and set up a new company to sell them. Apple is already preparing for that.

What gets me is...based on previous history, you'd think someone at Apple Computer would have said "hey, maybe this is gonna get us in trouble?"

I'm betting Jobs looked at the numbers and said "Oh screw that, we'll just pay them a good $100million and walk away like nothing happened!"

Or maybe they'll have to start putting little yellow submarines on those devices.

But How Many Songs Can it Hold?

My favorite people in the world, Apple, are at it again. Now, I don't know how much truth there is to this rumor - but you can judge for yourself. Apparently Steve Jobs won an abandoned mine in Australia in a poker game (yeah, this does sound like the stuff of urban legends) and has been using the site to create the world's largest advertisement - an ad that can be seen from planetary orbit!

I know how ludicrous this sounds, I do - but let the proof be in the pudding, as they say. Someone with way more time on their hands than I did some Googling, and stumbled across this image on Google Maps:

World's Largest iPod

Zoom in and judge for yourself. Giant iPod, or hoax?

Rumor mill says it's to coincide, sometime next month, with the unveiling of the Video iPod.

Review: Inside Man

On our way to dinner after this movie, my friend commented: "Wow, this was Spike Lee's best directing job yet!"

My response: "If I got to make a movie, tomorrow, that had Denzel Washington, Jodie Foster, Clive Owen, and Willem Dafoe - I couldn't possibly screw it up either!"

Understand: I'm not taking anything away from Spike. But let's keep it real, this is probably the first movie he's had to direct that 1) wasn't all about the bruthas, and 2) he didn't write himself. So in that respect, this may be his true breakout film, showing that he's more than an afro-centric director trying to prove he hasn't forgotten where he came from.

Not to say that his touch isn't visible throughout the film. Spike has a flair for bringing out the "real New York", showing both the beauty of the cityscape from various angles and the grittiness that we all have come to love about the city we live in. He manages, if you'll forgive my repetitiveness, to "keep it real" - his New York isn't cleaned up and spotless, it's charm and allure is in it's disdain for what other people think of it.

Denzel is...well, he's Denzel. He's a great actor, truly, but in some respect I catagorize him with Tom Cruise when it comes to the roles he takes. His own personality comes across in his characters, to the extent that you're not sure where he's acting and where he's being himself. Change the clothes and the locale, and you - for the most part - find yourself with essentially the same character. The most notable except is his portrayal of Creasy in "A Man Apart", a role that I personally felt took him to another level of acting.

In "Inside Man", his character Detective Frazier is a cross between the street smart detective in Training Day, and the cerebral foresics expert in The Bone Collector. Frazier, you feel, just might be a *little* corrupt - maybe. Or maybe more than you initially thought. You really don't know until then end, and even then you still have to wonder what's really going on with the character. He's deceptively intelligent, picking up on subtle clues as if he's channeling Columbo while he tries to unravel the mystery of the bank robbery.

Clive Owen plays the master antagonist, the clever bank robber who seems to have more of an agenda than he wants anyone to realize. He's calm, smooth, calculating, confident - exactly the kind of man you'd expect as a Bond villain, without being too much of a cartoon. He's unreadable, his expressions unchanging - and he seems genuinely impressed and amused by Frazier's dogged determination to discover his plans. Owen is the perfect poker player, keeping you guessing literally until the very end.

Jodie Foster steps out of character from her neurotic mother roles and has a little fun in this movie, playing the secretive Madeline White - a "facilitator", for lack fo a better word, whose job it is to secure the privacy of certain items within the bank. Foster looks as if she's having a blast with this role, portraying a woman with a sense of bravado that suggests she will come out sparkling clean out of any situation, no matter how deeply involved she becomes.

Overall, it's a fun movie to watch. The Trickster gives it 4 out of 5 bananas.

Texas: Off The Vacation List

I've been trying to figure out the logic behind this move that the Texas Alcoholic Beverage Commission has made, and can't. Well I can, but the explanation involves them inbibing everything they're either seizing or banning, and since I have no proof of this I won't cast stones.

But try explaining this. They're sending undercover agents into bars...looking for drunks.

This is real, folks. Apparently in Texas, "being in a bar does not exempt one from the state laws against public drunkeness" says the commission's Carolyn Beck. The first sting operation was conducted recently in a Dallas suburb where agents infiltrated 36 bars and arrested 30 people for public intoxication.

Public intoxication. In a bar.

Not outside the bar. Not bobbing and weaving on the sidewalk, or upchucking in the alley. Inside the bar.

"There are a lot of dangerous and stupid things people do when they're intoxicated, other than get behind the wheel of a car," Beck said. "People walk out into traffic and get run over, people jump off of balconies trying to reach a swimming pool and miss."

Apparently in Texas they also act as spokesperson for the Texas Alcoholic Beverage Commission.

So, word to the wise. Watch that beer count when you're in the longhorn, cuz that chick looking more and more attractive with each chug? She may just have a pair of handcuffs waiting to use on you, and it ain't for kinky play.

Myspace: The Movie

Okay this was way too funny not to share. Chapter 1 is the funniest, the rest you can probably ignore:

Fattening of America

We are way too litigious a society. I personally thought all of those lawsuits against the fast food industry were moronic, and to a point I still do.

But.

Maybe these fast food chains DO have a certain amount of liability. I'm not an enabler, and I have the personal strength to say no to something I don't want. I could also just not walk in the place. But people...come on. It's getting out of hand.

Case in point. I stopped at a KFC today (cuz I'm a Chicken Lover, remember?) to grab a lunch on the go. Simple meal, a 2-piece with 2 sides, cole slaw and potato wedges. Plenty of food. This particular KFC has these new cashier display screens, little 13" flat screens that have additional advertising on them shown next to your price. Okay, no problem - I've learned to ignore this stuff.

The cashier rings up my food, it's $5.36, or something close to that - and then the little display screen talks to me. I get a robotic-yet-friendly feminine voice saying, "...you could add an additional side order to make your order six dollars!" and the screen displays my options of mashed potatoes or baked beans.

I sort of laughed as I handed the girl my money; does this stuff actually work, I wondered? I looked up, and the cashier was looking at me expectantly - waiting for an answer! I was incredulous; I'm supposed to actually answer this machine? "No I don't want more food" I chuckled, shaking my head.

The girl rolled her eyes at me, annoyed. Annoyed! What, does she get commission? Holy crap, what do I want more food for? Do I look emasciated? Have I lost my healthy glow? Did I look starving?

I've noticed McDonalds has made changes themselves. I wanted to place an order for McNuggets. A 6-piece order, medium fries, medium drink. None of this supersized crap for me, I know my limits and I don't plan on gaining 600 pounds this week.

Guess what? No 6-piece anymore. That's right, folks; it's now a 10-piece meal, not a 6-piece. WTF?! Were people complaining that they couldn't get enough chicken? What the hell am I gonna do with 10 pieces, except get a heart attack from the clogged arteries?

This is a problem, folks. It's like my experience with them about a year ago, when I got in an argument with a McDonalds cashier over apple pies. I wanted an apple pie after my meal, and asked for one. "They're two for a dollar sir" she replies.

Well I only wanted one. Thanks, but no thanks - just the one. "But I have to charge you 99 cents for one." Whatever, okay? I just want one apple pie. "But that's such a waste, why would you pay for one when you could have two?"

Why? Because you silly twit, I only want one! I won't eat two, so why give me two? What am I supposed to do with it, carry it around until I get hungry again? I don't care what you do with the 2nd one, if it makes you feel better than you eat it yourself. Or give it away, I could give a flying fuck what you do with the 2nd apple pie - but when you hand me my food, there had better only be one in the bag, thanks.

Holy shit. It's like they're TRYING to make us fat, and we go along with it like sheep or lemmings.

So back to the nuggets. I discovered they have a four-piece on the "value menu". Guess what I ordered? Fuck you, Ronald. I like my arteries.

Where's Nancy Reagan with her "just say no" campaign when you really need her?

Review: V for Vendetta

It's generally a bad sign for a movie when the author of the work it's based on asks to have his name removed from the promotion and credits. However, while I completely sympathize with Alan Moore's decision it doesn't detract from what is still an incredibly involved, well written story.

V for Vendetta is an adaptation of the comic book by the same name. Set in a near-futuristic U.K., V's character is a Phantom-esque figure determined to be the anarchistic balance against the totalitarian society he lives in. He is a patriot, a staunch supporter of the ideologies behind his country - and yet, stands firmly against the oppressive nature of the government running it. It's a fascinating tale, and it does credit to the filmmakers that they managed to retain at least that much of the character.

Where the movie changed course from the original is the relevance the filmmakers decided to place on today's events. "America's War" is the cause for all of the troubles happening in the world, and from what little we could gleam in the movie we - meaning America - are paying the price. We're reduced to begging merry old England for help, offering wheat and tobacco for assistance and looked down upon with disdain; the care packages, it is suggested, should be dumped into the river in the way the early colonists dumped English tea into the bay.

"England Prevails" is the mantra repeated over and over; it does, but in an intense police state that is all too reminscent of Nazi Germany. Tolerance is...intolerated. To be different is to be anti-government, and anything that the government does not want...must go. Quietly, into that night, never to be seen again.

Natalie Portman does a surprisingly strong turn as the heroine Evey in the movie, a frail girl who discovers her own strength as the movie progresses. She does exceptionally well in expressing her fear - a cowering, shuddering, bawling, emotional mess as a direct counter to the expressionless, charismatic, dignified V, played by Hugo Weaving.

Weaving (Agent Smith from "the Matrix") is in a thankless role here; not once throughout the movie do you ever see his face, an oddity in the Hollywood world. He remains in character from start to finish, his face hidden behind the porcelain Guy Fawkes mask that both protects his identity and defines his quest. He represents Anarchy, the counterpoint to British Totalitarianism - and does so with a flair and grace that brings up memories of the England of Olde. And yet, he is mad - completely so, but there is genius in his madness.

Did I like the movie? Simply put, yes; while the original message of the Alan Moore story is lost, this is still an enjoyable movie that should spark plenty of discussion among the more cerebral of you. Would I recommend it to everyone? No.

Understand, this is not the action movie it appears to be. This is a walking, talking philosophical discussion on a socio-political scale. This movie intends that you think, that you lean back in your chair and ponder the current state of the world and how fear of living in this world affects you, and others around you.

It just happens to do so with a lot of killing.

On a 5-scale, the Trickster gives it a 3-1/2. Go for the straight 4 if you're into "thinking" movies.

When Geeks Go Wild

Why are some of the most intelligent people on the planet also some of the stupidest?

Case in point. Two geekoids - one an editor at a tech mag called "Make", the other an R&D drone at Eyebeam decided to get together for a little mayhem. (Eyebeam is a not-for-profit arts and technology center which fosters the creative use of
new technologies through research and production initiatives, education programs and exhibitions. I got that straight off their website.)

By mayhem, I'm being literal. Lovers of the arcade classic, "Frogger", they decided to take a Roomba - those little robotic vacuum cleaners - and trick it out with a remote control and a green costume so that it resembled, well...a frog.

Most of you can see where this is going, but for those Y-generation kids out there who have no idea what frogger is - the purpose of the video game was to guide a frog from one side of an extremely busy highway, across several lanes of traffic, to the other side. Where inevitably the frog would get eaten by a crocodile, but that's unimportant here.

I should mention that this was NOT a controlled experiment. These Texas yahoos stepped outside onto Austin's Sixth Street, put down their frog and watched with glee as they sent it into traffic. Live traffic. Go, go gadget frog!

They send it across. Then back. And out again. And back. Over and over they send this robotic frog out into traffic, laughing as cars swerved to avoid hitting the poor creature (more likely to avoid damaging their tires). On the 10th trip - the equivalent of sending it through 40 lanes of traffic - it finally got nailed by a white Toyota 4-Runner.

By this point, according to the article, it was probably a good thing that the Roomba-frog got nailed because they noticed a nearby building security guard on the phone with the police. Kudos to the security guard. Needless to say, the morons (and their equally moronic friends who stood around watching) high-tailed it back to the safety of their hotel. But what got me was this part:

As people in the suite laughed, shouted and talked about what they'd just witnessed, (the tech) summed up his evening.

"We had a lot to drink before we got here," he said, "but there's nothing to sober you up like steering a robot through traffic."

Hey, here's a tip. Friends don't let friends drink and roomba.

C is for Cookie

How is it that the Girl Scouts of America get away with mixing crack in the flour of their cookie dough? Hmm?

Don't tell me there isn't some addictive, crack-like substance in those cookies! Anyone who says that has NEVER had a girl scout cookie. NEH-VAH!

Seriously. Roam around the office with a box of Oreos, see what that does to people. No reaction. Vanilla Wafers? Blah. Chips Ahoy? Snooze central.

But let anyone see that green and white box with the words "Thin Mints" on it, and you'll swear there's a stampeding horde of buffalo heading your way. Say the words "girl scout cookies" and watch everyone within earshot start drooling uncontrollably.

It's the cookies, man! Try this experiment. Take a package of Keebler "Grasshoppers", which are chocolate covered cookies with a slight taste of spearmint, open them up and place them on a table in your company break room. On that same table, take a box of Girl Scout "Thin Mints", open it, and leave it on the same table. Walk away. Come back in an hour.

I'll BET those Keebler cookies are lying on the floor, scattered as the masses searched fruitlessly underneath the package looking for more thin mints. The Girl Scout cookie box? It's torn apart, ripped to shreds with streaks of fluid on the inside that looks suspiciously like saliva.

Still don't believe me? Here's a real life scenario that took place just yesterday. When I was told that my cookies had arrived, I of course felt elated and absolutely had to break out in song. In the office.

With my head bopping from side to side, I sang:

C is for Cookie,
That's good enough for me
C is for Cookie,
That's good enough to eat,
Cookie cookie cookie starts with C!

Yeah, that's right. I sang the Cookie Monster song. This should have gotten me locked away for my own health, and it nearly did. My cellmate, umm, cubicle partner, gave me "the glare" and asked "are you singing the cookie monster song?"

I replied, gleefully. "Yes I am."
Arched eyebrow. "...Why?"
Me, beaming. "Because my girl scout cookies are here!"
Her, eyes wide. "You've got girl scout cookies?"
Two people smiling stupidly.

Suddenly singing the cookie song doesn't seem so weird, does it?

Them cookies got crack. Remember I said that, when you're in detox this summer after your own stash of cookies run out.

And don't THINK you're gettin' any of mine!

Say It Isn't So, Issac!

Issac Hayes has left South Park.

I remember when I first heard about South Park, back when it was little more than an internet phenom. I downloaded the clip and laughed hysterically as Jesus and Santa Claus faced off in a battle over Christmas.

I've been laughing ever since, and often it was because of the character Chef, voiced by Issac Hayes. He's been a regular on the show since it began in 1997 - that's 9 years, folks. But no more.

Why? Religious differences. This decision comes after the show's brilliant "Trapped in the Closet" episode, that manages to make fun of Tom Cruise's sexuality, the Church of Scientology, and R. Kelly with the same theme. Issac happens to be a Scientologist himself.

"There is a place in this world for satire, but there is a time when satire ends and intolerance and bigotry toward religious beliefs of others begins," the 63-year-old soul singer and Scientologist said in a statement. "Religious beliefs are sacred to people, and at all times should be respected and honored," he continued. "As a civil rights activist of the past 40 years, I cannot support a show that disrespects those beliefs and practices."

Oh really?

This is a show that regularly has one character, Cartman, make fun of his jewish friend, Kyle, for being a Jew. The same show that satirized christian rock bands, has Satan as the gay effeminate lover of Saddam Hussein, that called Mormons stupid, had a statue of the virgin mary bleed out of her ass, that had woodland animals performing satanic rites to bring the animal antichrist into the world, where Jesus has a public access television show...

Don't be a hypocrite, Issac. You're just upset that they finally got around to those nutjobs you hang with. You had no problem with them having your character call all the white folk in South Park "crackas"; you also had no problem singing such classic South Park Chef songs as:

Chocolate Salty Balls

Say everybody, have you seen my balls?/They're big and salty and brown./ If you ever need a quick pick me up/Just stick my balls in your mouth.

The Prostitute Song

A prostitute is someone who will love you/No matter who you are or what you look like/But that's not why you pay prostitute. No, you don't pay her to stay/You pay her to leave afterwards/That's why I praise the Lord for prostitutes!

Sometimes you kill your teacher

"Sometimes you kill your teacher and they find your semen in her stomach, and uh"

Chef on Where Babies Come From

"When a man loves a woman/And a woman loves a man/...Well, sometimes the man doesn't love the woman,/But he pretends like he does, in order to get some action."

But let's not make fun of Tom and Katie. Uh-uh, children.

Hypocrite.

Should'a Let The Cougar Eat Her

"24" is so messed up. I can't believe they killed Edgar, then killed Tony - but they let that stuck-up, prissy, spoiled brat of a daughter Jack has keep on living. Even worse, they re-introduce her just long enough so she can make Jack feel more like shit than he does. For the first three seasons it's been her, getting in trouble and forcing Jack to keep his attention split between the job at hand and her Penelope Pitstop-wanna be ass.

I'm hoping they stop the nerve gas by pumping it all into her.

Oh, I'm not alone. Google "Kim Bauer, hate", make yourself a sandwich and spend the next hour reading it all. Even the actress playing her has to make excuses for her character's stupidity.

Or better yet, watch the show. You could start a drinking game by watching the show and doing a shot every time you find yourself saying "stupid bitch".

I was really, really hoping that cougar was gonna end up with a good meal.

Really.

Not Quite Balloons In Clay Jars

So get this. Bad enough we've got Cheney shooting his friends, but is Condi smuggling drugs out of South America?

Bolivian President Evo Morales, when receiving visiting U.S. Secretary of State Condoleeza Rice, presented her with a gift of a guitar. Adorned with a coca leaf inlay.

Yes, folks, that's the same leaf that we spend upteen billions of bucks on to keep from coming onto our red, white and blue shores. The ones usually shipped in balloons or condoms, stuffed inside some poor schmuck's stomach.

I'm wondering: was she THAT uptight? "Here, Condi, you look like you could use a hit."

Here we have the president of a country we're trying to stop the flow of drugs coming out of, handing over what is essentially a cache of drugs to our visiting dignitary.

Supposedly, Condi told Morales "I'm a musician you know," and strummed the instrument, a typical Bolivian lacquered handicraft with five pairs of strings. I wonder if she tapped the side of her nose when she said that. Wink wink nudge nudge.

The U.S. response?

"The gift was well received. We will just have to check with our customs to see what rules apply. We certainly hope we can bring it back (to Washington)," said a senior State Department official who attended the meeting.

I bet you do, buddy. I just bet you do.