Cells

Friday was the nine-month anniversary of the legal wedding, and we had dinner out at Jason’s, the restaurant that catered the formal wedding. It both does and doesn’t feel like nine months. A lot has obviously happened since then: We’ve moved into the house and settled into it; she’s started two semesters of teaching and coached a volleyball team; I’ve produced a comic story, three magazines, and five newsletters; and we’ve had another round of holidays. We haven’t had anything like what I’d call a real argument, just geysers of stress here and there.

Your Sister has also started working on the yard as the warmer weather lures out outdoors. She’s pruned quite a bit to give me more space to mow, killing my excuse to let some patches grow wild. We’ve talked some about the rows of plants in the front yard and the garden. We might build a new compost box.

She received surveys from both the Republican Senate Committee and the Democratic Congressional Committee. She anwered the Dems' survey, and I took the GOP one. The GOP survey stated that it wouldn't be tabulated unless you paid an $11 "donation." This strikes me as designed to received feedback from those who are either wealthy enough to spend $11 or loyal enough to want to. Doesn't this skew the survey toward those with more money? We didn't send it in.

On Saturday, I hit the gym while Your Sister worked the Altar Guild to prep the church for the Sunday services. We had our usual Saturday lunch out, this time at Ceilito Lindo, where you heard the mariachi band. Then we did the unthinkable, the most horrid of all deeds, we bought cell phones. We checked out the local Verizon store but weren’t encouraged by the look of it. It’ll do fine as a part and accessories store though, and indeed we went back to buy a car charger. No, we instead, drove back to Best Buy and followed up on the previous look-see. This time, they had the styles we wanted in stock and we signed all the paperwork and bought nifty little clip-pouches, and left the store armed with our new cellosity. That night, after sitting by the firepit and having a beer, we delved into the working and options of the phones for about two hours. And went to mind with our minds reeling. The ringtones are despicable, but we enjoy using nicknames for the voice-activated dialers. The cell phone puts me at ease with my commute and now I won’t be reliant on passersby if I need to call in a phone accident. Also I can stick by the car and talk to AAA or the insurance company. Because the phone has a clock, I don’t need to buy the watch I was contemplating.

Sunday had a slow start as Your Sister was enrapt with watching “Mad About You” and then napping. I worked on the below sketch and used the Feast Day to get in some PlayStation wrestling. I don’t find the absence of gaming and ice cream annoying at all. I’ve managed to weather Lent pretty well by staying busy with Things That Need Doing.

One of those is delving into “Harry Potter.” I’ve only gotten as far as the Sorting Hat chapter, but I’m enjoying the book and going through it quickly. I can’t ell if the book is this well-written, or I’m reliving the enjoyment o the movie adaptation. The movie, from what I can remember, follows the book almost word for word so far. I can easily see myself reading the whole series. I don’t know if I would have enjoyed this if I read it when I was younger. I didn’t have much interest in magic stories back then. The highlight of the weekend was seeing Your Sister laugh at a stand-up comic, a rarity that rivals Halley’s Comet. But what made it even better is that she laughed at Eddie Izzard, one of the best funny guys around. BBC America showed his “Dress To Kill” concert last night.

Sketch Day
DC Comics has reworked Catwoman a lot, trying desperately to find another heroine who isn’t a simple spin-off of an established character. Wonder Woman sprang from no previous hero, but Batgirl and Supergirl are, essentially, sidekicks. As has virtually every other female hero DC has managed to sell successfully. Catwoman is also that most beloved of comic clichés: the redeemed villain. Comic writers love to make bad guys turn good or at least become a sympathetic antihero. Catwoman is that now. She fights crime but also steals when the mood strikes, like an itch that escapes scratching.

In the news
Scientific American provides 15 answers to pro-creationist attacks on evolution theory.

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March Madness begins with the list of the 64 teams making the tournament. The ACC Championship game between Duke and Boston College was tight. BC had a few chances to put away Duke but couldn’t make the shots.

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V For Vendetta opens this week as the first big film of 2006. It was to be released last November but the London bombings and tight editing schedules forced the move to spring. It’s getting a big profile for its subject matter – revolution against fascism – as well as its pedigree. Genius comic writer Alan Moore crafted this with artists David Lloyd back in the mid-‘80s of Thatcher and Reagan social policies, and the film is the first by the team behind The Matrix since that trilogy’s end. While I treasure Moore’s writing, “Vendetta” is not a great comic. It’s bogged by multiple subplots and character arcs. The hook is the progression of V and Ivey, the two leads. One segment of “Vendetta” is the biography of a government prisoner long since dead, and it’s possibly the best written chapter Moore’s written, which is saying a lot. There will be a lot of babble from the pundits about what this film says about Homeland Security and the war on terrorism, but it’s no different from the previous centuries of rascal heroes fighting corruption in authority. Give this guy a car, and he’d be that much closer to the Dukes of Hazzard. Give him a horse, and he’s Robin Hood. Your Sister has read the book, and we both geeked out for Matrix so we’ll be seeing this movie when it opens. We root for the success of the film mainly because we want a studio to give a big director a pile of money to make the long-attempted adaptation of Moore’s masterpiece, “Watchmen.” After the mixed results of adapting “League of Extraordinary Gentlemen” and “From Hell,” we hope the Vendetta film will convince people that the stories work as Moore designed them and don’t require updating.

Pizza Party

We went over to Angela and Dan’s last night. She teaches drafting at the school, and he can fix just about anything. They’re as agreeable a couple to hang out with as one could hope to find. It’s a bit surprising how many couples we hang out with, and I look forward to socializing much more now that I reside here in the boonies. Angela made homemade pizza after they gave a tour of the house. It’s a fixer-upper, and they’ve gone wild on it, repairing everything from whole additions to the front awning to a brand new back porch and landscaping. It’s inspiring; I want to redo our whole backyard.

She and I made a pact a while back to trade kids books; she’d get my copy of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, and I’d read the first Harry Potter. Yep, I’m giving in to the series after seeing all the movies. I dread reading it a bit because I so detest the Golden Child cliché. Thus, I heartily root for Voldemort. I just finished up America by the Daily Show staff and could use a new book. I also need to start the Bible project I have in mind. We ate pizza and salad and talked TV shows. We want to have them over to the house to watch “Lost.” They’re curious about it but daunted at the couch time needed to catch up. With summer approaching, they can easily borrow our DVDs to get up to speed.

The Picture of the Day
Possible evidence of liquid water geysers on Saturn’s moon Enceladus, as seen from NASA’s Cassini probe.

In the news
Bush’s numbers keep slipping. The Dubai port deal has taken an odd turn as the UAE company pledged to divest its control of terminals to a U.S. company, but there’s no specific mention of selling it. They might move control to a subsidiary.

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National Geographic says Easter Island’s civilization may be younger than previously thought.

Cooking with Villainy: Dr. Doom

Much too busy working to offer a proper blog post so here’s your guest host for today, noted supervillain and overdramatic Eastern European despot: Victor Von Doom.

When the Great Victor Von Doom seeks respite from governing the filthy peasantry of Latveria (and the constant scheming for the downfall of that accursed Reed Richards), Doom likes to whip up some fried chicken. Doom graciously bequeaths to you all the secret Gypsy Momma Recipe handed likewise to Doom from his Beloved Mother.

To begin this epicurean delight, Doom commands you to thaw boneless chicken breasts.

Doom commands you to mix equal parts kosher salt, cayenne pepper, and garlic powder in a parmesan cheese shaker.

Doom commands you to shake an acceptable amount of the spices into a bowl of wheat flour.

Doom commands you to soak the chicken with milk, water or egg for no longer than 20 seconds.

Doom commands you to then coat the breasts with seasoned bread crumbs, available to all at Doom-Mart.

Doom commands you heat a skillet with a liberal coating of peanut oil.

Doom commands you solve the conundrum of Doom’s Nuclear Reed Richards Exploder: Does Doom require more purloined energy from the Negative Zone to power the engine or does the problem lie with the transfer coils? The matter is too mundane for Doom’s brilliance, otherwise Doom would need not your aid. What? Of course Doom can fix it if Doom really wanted. Doom is merely preoccupied with the delicious chicken. QUESTION NOT DOOM!

Doom commands you to cook the chicken on high heat for ten minutes, then flip and cook for another ten.

During this, Doom commands you make Stove Top Stuffing, the one weakness Doom will confess.

Remove the chicken, apply them to your plates without draining and consume the glory of the Gypsy Momma Recipe.

Swear fealty to Doom and fetch Doom some tea from the Beacon Drive-In. It washes the taste of confounding defeat from Doom’s mouth. Doom remembers the days before he heard of that accursed Richards. Doom longs for such halcyon days. Doom … Doom just wants to be alone for awhile. Bother Doom no more. Hast thou seen Doom’s copy of the latest Cosmopolitan? Doom requires a soak in the Doom Tub. Doom needs none but the company of the Doom Ducky which alone grasps the burden of genius Doom carries each day.

Begone!

Greenville Gets a PPV

A comic story long percolating in my head is starting to take shape. I jotted down some notes at home yesterday while Your Sister cooked from the curry book you gave us. The red paste, we think, has gotten hotter. It’s fermented. Ripened. Plotted our demise. The dish tasted fantastic, but we couldn’t have seconds because of the searing tongue pain. We’ll cook with smaller doses from now on. One of her school co-workers is buying a house, and we're giving them all the boxes saved from our move. She came over yesterday for the first load. The absence of boxes finally opens up the storage room for the painting studio. Guess I have no excuse now not to start that dining room painting.

Holy crap! Greenville hosts its first wrestling pay-per-view in June. Finally. That area has been a wrestling staple for thirty years, and the venue continually sells well for WWE shows. I have to be there for this. Your Sister should come too; this is during summer vacation.

The Picture of the Day
Parking one’s car overseas. I can’t tell by the tags if this is in Europe or Japan. I’ll wager the latter.

In the news
Tensions with Iran continue to rise.

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Arrests in the Alabama church fires are being made. I think Your Brother worked on that for the FBI.

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The Patriot Act gets new life when Bush signs it this week, but it now contains some restrictions the original act’s powers.

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A Cornell physicist has created an algorithm that eases biological imaging and solves all Sodoku puzzles.

Tuesday

Your Sister is feeling the stress of recent school obligations. I help as I can, but she’s swamped with workshop and testing processes. You know, all the stuff apart from teaching. Me, I’m dealing with an unjust gaming schedule that presents great new games right after I give them up for Lent.

The Picture of the Day
This is a new photo from the upcoming Superman Returns film. It seems like the film is going to pick up a few years after Superman II and ignore the last two sequels.

In the news
The new trailer for the third X-men film is out, and it makes the film look better than the previous two.

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Dana Reeve, the widow of Superman actor Christopher, has died of breast cancer.

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The Secretary of the Treasury is asking Congress to increase the amount of the debt cap. The government is nearing the established $8.2 trillion limit.

The Oscar Diary/Weekend

Unlike previous years, this show really and truly starts at 8 p.m. instead of starting at 8:30 after red-carpet interviews. We didn’t see any of this.

8:01 The theme of the evening, “A Return to Glamour,” is established right away as a CGI opening presents a city of movie stars. Characters are clipped from movies and put side-by-side on the street as famous vehicles fly overhead. It looks really expensive.

8:04 The previous Oscar hosts turn down the chance to host this year in a pretty funny segment. It ends with Jon Stewart waking up to find himself in bed with George Clooney, and he’s more than happy to host.

8:08 The stage is huge and gorgeous, a slick silver and gold set highlighting class and glamour. It’s meant to convey a movie theatre, underscoring the appeal of going out to the movies. That theme will pop up again throughout the night as studios desperately try to win us back to the theatres so we can overpay for drinks while watching under-lit screens and craning to hear over the dumb-ass audience members who think they’re sitting in their living room.

8:10 Stewart’s funny, but he’s not trying to turn the show into his own show. We may finally have our new Carson. Although Steve Martin was just fine, his recent teen movies have turned him into an onscreen glorified bumbling babysitter.

8:18 Clooney wins best supporting actor. “Guess this means I’m not winning best director.” He then proudly admits that Hollywood is out of touch with America as it has made AIDS movies when no one would talk about it and offered civil rights stories before Brown vs. Board. It’s a classy speech, befitting the tone of the evening.

8:29 The obligatory wacky presenter dilutes the class of the proceedings. Ben Stiller wears a green-screen effects suit as he announces King Kong as the winner for special effects. Imagine being the winner. You’ve got your tux, you’re surrounded by stars, you win an Oscar, and this is the guy handing it to you. Try to act amused.

8:31 Wallace and Gromit wins best animated feature. The winners get their Oscars from Reese Witherspoon. If one had to choose between Stiller in that costume and her, would anyone over the age of 12 pick Stiller? Then again, the winners wear giant cartoon bowties and immediately slip smaller duplicates on their awards.

8:35 Dolly Parton sings her nominated song. There’s no abstract set or interpretive dance. It’s just her, being Dolly, singing her song. Like the woman needs more props. Funny story: A syndicated radio host named Albert Mohler took some shots at her song last week, condemning its interpretation of Christian tolerance and salvation. Because, God knows, the one thing you don’t want Christianity to appear is tolerant. Also, what kind of schmuck thinks he’s gonna win over an audience by knocking Dolly Parton? All the people in showbiz to demagogue to make a name, and he picks the saint of Tennessee.

8:40 The Wilson brothers announce live action short. Eh.

8:46 In another of these mindboggling lame traditions, cartoon characters (this time from Chicken Little) present the nominations and winner for best short animated feature. Hey, indy animators proclaiming the power of hand-drawn animation, you just got your gold from Disney characters. You can never escape The Machine.

8:51 Jennifer Aniston gives the best costume award to Colleen Atwood. Maybe I’m just callous, but it’s about time she made a movie that turned a profit. Otherwise, she looks like she won’t be anything than The Ditched Girl from “Friends.” I say she’s back on TV in three years.

8:56 Will Farrell and Steve Carrell announce best makeup while wearing too much of it. Unlike Farrell, who has to be Loud Zany Guy to be funny, Steve just has to stand there. It’s no contest. Will wants to be funny. Steve is. Narnia beats out Star Wars, and the winner’s mic is cut after 60 seconds. The Academy is stern this year about the show’s running time.

9:00 Your Sister about Jon Stewart: “Is he supposed to be funny?”
Me: “No one bats a thousand.”
My brain: “I married this woman?”

9:02 Morgan Freeman gives the best supporting actress award to Rachel Weisz. Being English, her acceptance speech is confident, concise, and beautifully enunciated. Remember this later when Phillip Seymour Hoffman wins and delivers his thank-yous like he’s working off a hangover.

9:11 Lauren Bacall has trouble reading the teleprompter as she introduces a montage of noir films. She looks great, by the way. And she embodies the theme of class. Shame she’s making a living these days hawking Fancy Feast cat food.

9:15 A home-run comedy skit straight from “The Daily Show” presents best actress nominee campaign ads. In a time of war, do we really want to give the Oscar to someone who sounds foreign when we can anoint a gal named Reese Witherspoon?

9:18 Best documentary short. Eh.

9:20 March of the Penguins wins for best documentary. The winners carry stuffed penguins to the stage. The theme of class just walked backstage to throw back some scotch.

9:24 The nominated song from Crash is performed in front of a burning car and people moving in slow motion amid heavy dry-ice fog. That’s the abstract sledgehammer of poignancy we’ve come to expect from the Oscars. Remember when Savion Glover tap-danced to the score from Saving Private Ryan years back? Ah, mindless incongruity, thy name is Oscar.

9:29 During a commercial break, ESPN2 announces the Oakland Raiders cut their starting QB, Kerry Collins. Speaking as a franchise-long fan of the Panthers – the team he quit on in their third season – I congratulate karma for doing a fine job.

9:32 Memoirs of a Geisha wins for best art direction. It really does look like a sumptuous film. Too bad Your Sister disliked the book so much. I didn’t get more than fifty pages into it.

9:35 Samuel L Jackson presents a stand-out montage on films of social and cultural commentary. Inherit the Wind and To Kill a Mockingbird should be required viewing in high school. Also, everyone should watch In the Heat of the Night and Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner because Sidney Poitier is just that damn good.

9:40 Academy president Sid Ganis underscores substantive filmmaking and storytelling as vital forms of art. Also, DVDs are stinky poo-poo, and you should only see movies in a theatre. If I could taser the jerk behind me narrating the film, I would. This should be the rule: Every adult gets a taser and can zap two rude people each movie. This will be my platform when I run for office.

9:43 Salma Hayek (who is 4 feet tall and three inches wide) introduces Itzhak Perlman performing a medley of the best scores. His is the violin we hear in 1971’s Fiddler on the Roof. He also used to pop up on “Sesame Street.” Brokeback Mountain wins the Oscar, beating out two John Williams scores.

9:50 The show is flying by.

9:56 Jake Gyllenhall introduces a montage of epic films. Oh, and DVDs eat babies and steal your boyfriends. Go to a theatre. Wait, included in the montages is a clip from Smokey and the Bandit. Even I, who played with my parents’ CB and built model Trans Ams, can’t get behind that.

9:59 Jon Stewart announces the show is all out of clips. If you have any at home, they need them.

10:00 King Kong wins for sound mixing. Seeing the clip for War of the Worlds makes us want to see it again. Not so for the Kong clips. Not only was Kong more recent, but unlike the Lord of the Rings movies, it feels like a three-hour film.

10:15 A great M. Night Shyamalan American Express commercial. I like each film this guy has made regardless if they all use the gotcha plot twists. I don’t care. They’re really well done.

10:17 Ludacris presents the nominated rap from Hustle and Flow, “It’s Hard Out Here For a Pimp.” If it wins, it won’t be the first rap to win best song; Eminem already did that. But it will be the first gritty rap by a black act to win, and that makes a big difference. The song is accessorized by more pantomime, and I’m pretty sure she’s saying “shit” in the chorus. But it’s almost 10:30; the kids should be in bed by now anyway.

10:22 Latifah announces that the rap wins, and the rappers go nuts. More importantly, only three songs are nominated this year, and none is from a Disney film or a Broadway adaptation. The latter always include a new song for Oscar consideration, and neither Rent nor The Producers got a nod. Interesting. Stewart notes the elation of the winners and says all Oscar recipients should act like that.

10:26 More campaign ads, this time for sound editing. King Kong wins its third technical Oscar the night.

10:30 Clooney presents the In Memoriam. Always an emotional moment in the show.

10:37 Will Smith gives the best foreign award to Tsotsi, a South African film. Maybe it’s coincidence, but NPR pushed this film hard in the past few months.

10:40 Zhang Ziyi gives Crash the Oscar for editing. She totally blew everyone out of the water with her dress. No one else even came close. I admit it: she’s incredibly hot. If Your Sister can have her harem list, I can call dibs on the Chinese gal.

10:43 Hillary Swank (looking swank) gives the best actor Oscar to Hoffman. You know the big guy from Twister and Boogie Nights. And indeed, he thanks everyone while looking like he just woke up from a bender and realized he drunkenly joined the Taliban.

10:54 I TiFaux the show to tuck Your Sister into bed.

10:57 Travolta gives Geisha the cinematography award.

10:58 Jamie Foxx gives Reese Witherspoon the best actress Oscar. And she utterly deserved it. She again shows the small-town poise that suggests that even if she discovers her husband is an octopus and her dad is a Wookie, she’ll still smile and stand tall. She was also good in Vanity Fair. Wait, did I miss the writing awards? Are they finally giving the category its due by moving it next to the director and film nominations? Astounding. Usually they’re given out in the first 90 minutes between scenes of puppets acting out best song candidates.

11:08 Dustin Hoffman announces Brokeback wins for best adapted screenplay. Co-winner Larry McMurtry wears jeans to keep his Western writer cred.

11:12 Uma Thurman, turning more and more into Glenn Close’s clone, gives Crash the Oscar for original screenplay.

11:19 Tom Hanks gives Ang Lee the best director award for Brokeback. It’s well deserved.

11:20 Jack Nicholson milks his stage time a bit before shocking the crowd with the announcement that Crash won best picture. Yet another director/picture split. The producer’s mic is cut off for an ad break. Her joy is diluted.

11:28 Stewart says good night. This was a speedy three hours plus, and there was no scandalous moment to besmirch the ceremony. Stewart was good; he deserves to come back next year.

So how did my predictions work out? 2-6. That’s one for three and pretty darn good as a batting average.

The dinner Friday went OK after some initial discomfort. We hadn’t all been in the same room for more than a year and the last time I talked to the priest, he had a different perception of me. Since then, I haven’t gone to All Saints at all, feeling as I did that I was party crashing. The lasagna was bland as the original recipe was designed for sausage and not ground beef. But eventually the dinner conversation got rolling and a good time was had. I’m somewhat in shock that I traded Depeche Mode memories with a priest, but Father Mark’s truly a cool guy.

Saturday, I got back to the gym for a light workout and read a solid Rolling Stone article on Scientology. It’s in the issue with snowboarder Shaun White on the cover. We visited my parents to spoil mom for her birthday. She wanted Eagles CDs, and I got her the two hits collections. It went well; they love Your Sister like mad. They’re getting a gas stove similar to ours so we gave them the lowdown of what we discovered when we switched from electric. Mom needs new cookware, and Your Sister uncharacteristically leaped at the chance to go shopping with her. Gadzooks.

Sunday, I awoke at a mind-splitting 7 a.m. and was so bored and addle-minded that I actually got work done. I polished off some grading paperwork, drew a bit, dusted off an old Star Wars computer game and read my monthly haul of comics. I’ll go into that with more detail later on, but I get my stuff shipped to me from my old store in Spartanburg. Your sister, I might add, was so wiped out from the evils of shopping that she slept until 3 p.m.

Sketch Day
I can’t recall if Spider-Man was my first favorite superhero, but he was definitely early on. There was the original cartoon, the comics, the coloring books, and the live-action skits from “Electric Company” all before I was five. It was great to be a kid in the mid-‘70s, what with the Batman reruns and Wonder Woman, Superman, Captain Marvel, Isis, and Spider-Man all performed by live actors.

Oscar predictions

We’re hosting Your Sister’s Anglican priest and his wife tonight for din-din. I’m a little worried how this will go for two reasons:

1. Can they eat lasagna on the Friday after Lent begins? If not, we’ll go out to eat somewhere. I spent an hour last night getting the fixin’s ready. All we have to do is bake the dish.

2. Is he mad because we didn’t get married in his church? Officially, the Anglican church doesn’t recognize our marriage, but he strikes me as the kind of guy to move aside the hardline dogma when dealing with his parishioners. If it’s a real problem (and if it is, why would he come to dinner?) I can take off for a few hours and bowl. Your Sis can show off the house and cover all the pictures of me with cut-out faces of Antonio Banderas.

Since the Oscars run on Sunday, it’s very unlikely there will be another post between now and Sunday night. I love watching the Oscars. I have no idea when I picked it up, but I remember Johnny Carson hosting. I have lots of good memories over the years:

-- The roar of the audience when Daniel Day-Lewis won for My Left Foot

-- David Letterman’s truly funny hosting job, a gig that’s almost universally panned

-- Rob Lowe dancing with Snow White and Corey Feldman trying to dance like Michael Jackson during his “think I’ll be a choreographer” phase.

-- Halle and Denzel winning, the first time black actors have taken the best actor and actress Oscars in the same year.

-- Goldie Hawn mistaking a Kurt Russell flirtation for an engagement proposal

-- Tom Hanks winning for Philadelphia, a moment I, who grew up with his ‘80s comic work, never thought could happen.

-- Morgan Freeman finally winning an Oscar and giving a short thank-you.

Whoopi Goldberg was a far better host than Billy Crystal, whose show-opening medley was brain torture. I have high hopes for Jon Stewart as host this year. He’s easily the finest guy currently on TV and has owned that distinction since Dave Chappelle went nuts.

This year’s crop looks like a solid group of nominees, so let’s look at the big categories with a list taken from Oscars.com. Picking the winners this year will be tricky; for the first time in years, there are no nominees for a handicapped role.

Best Actor
Philip Seymour Hoffman in "Capote"
Terrence Howard in "Hustle & Flow"
Heath Ledger in "Brokeback Mountain"
Joaquin Phoenix in "Walk the Line"
David Strathairn in "Good Night, and Good Luck."

Hoffman seems to have momentum by winning the SAG Award and the Golden Globe for his work. I like the guy, but I was stunned by Heath Ledger’s work; he’s almost unrecognizable. Both are up for homosexual roles, which I think is a first for this category. I want to root for Joaquin, but he can only win if Phillip and Heath split the vote enough to give Phoenix the majority. David only wins if Good Night sweeps. Howard can sit back and enjoy the party.
The probable winner: Hoffman
My pick: Ledger

Best Supporting Actor
George Clooney in "Syriana"
Matt Dillon in "Crash"
Paul Giamatti in "Cinderella Man"
Jake Gyllenhaal in "Brokeback Mountain"
William Hurt in "A History of Violence"

The Academy likes to give consolation Oscars to those who should have won in previous years. Nichole Kidman won for The Hours the year after she lost for Moulin Rouge. Renee Zellwegger won for Cold Mountain after losing the year before for Chicago. I think Giamatti could see a win after failing to receive a nomination for Sideways, a film he carried like a champ. Jake is getting short shrift for his work in Brokeback, and William Hurt wasn’t onscreen long enough to really deserve it, even though Beatrice Straight and Judi Dench both have won for appearing onscreen for less than 15 minutes. Dillon can only win if Crash sweeps (as some project), and Clooney strikes me as guy people like but not enough to give him an award for this kind of film.
The probable winner: Giamatti
My pick: Giamatti

Best Actress
Judi Dench in "Mrs. Henderson Presents"
Felicity Huffman in "Transamerica"
Keira Knightley in "Pride & Prejudice"
Charlize Theron in "North Country"
Reese Witherspoon in "Walk the Line"

This is Reese’s to lose. She owns the film and works her ass off to perform onstage. She also has a sterling reputation in Hollywood as a star it can boast with no scandal. Right role, right actress, right year. I love Hoffman’s other work, but I don’t see her winning in this role. Not enough people saw Theron or Dench’s films, and Keira’s nod seems like it was made to fill out the list.
The probable winner: Witherspoon
My pick: Witherspoon

Best Supporting Actress
Amy Adams in "Junebug"
Catherine Keener in "Capote”
Frances McDormand in "North Country”
Rachel Weisz in "The Constant Gardener"
Michelle Williams in "Brokeback Mountain"

This is perennially the tightest group to choose from; anyone could win. To give you an idea, children have won this twice: Tatum O’Neal and Anna Paquin. Marisa Tomei’s win in My Cousin Vinny is long rumored as a mistakenly read name the Academy is too embarrassed to fix. Weisz has the vocal momentum, and critics have openly supported Adams’s work. McDormand won before for Fargo. I like Williams’s chances. She of all the characters has to react for the audience as she realizes her husband loves another man without knowing how to respond. She did a fantastic job.
The probable winner: Weisz
My pick: Williams

Best Director
"Brokeback Mountain" Ang Lee
"Capote" Bennett Miller
"Crash" Paul Haggis
"Good Night, and Good Luck." George Clooney
"Munich" Steven Spielberg

Simply put, Brokeback doesn’t happen without Lee. If he doesn’t win for this, we will have a true scandal of the night. Miller is an actor stepping in as a first-time director, and that doesn’t mean he can’t win. Redford and Costner won for this first direction, both beating out Scorsese, for crying out loud. Spielberg’s inclusion is to honor the subject of the film. Crash is getting momentum as the pundit pick because of its subject matter, and because people want to write about something other than Brokeback.
The probable winner: Lee
My pick: Lee

Best Picture
"Brokeback Mountain”
"Capote"
"Crash"
"Good Night, and Good Luck"
"Munich"

Unlike some years, the best director nominations are the same as the best picture group. The winner here is not dependent on who wins best director. Chicago, Gladiator, and Shakespeare In Love all won best picture without their directors winning. And this is where Crash could slip by Brokeback. Some feel Brokeback can’t win because Hollywood is afraid of the political backlash. Some say it only wins because Hollywood is daring such a reaction to happen. But Hollywood loves a decade-spanning romance blocked by culture, and that’s what the film ultimately is. It wins because it’s a great film, not because it makes a great statement.
The probable winner: Brokeback Mountain
My pick: Brokeback Mountain

The Picture of the Day
This is an editorial cartoon by legendary artist Thomas Nast (who brought down the corrupt officials in New York’s Tammany Hall) in reaction to the death of Lincoln. It’s from the online version of Harper's Weekly, April 29, 1865 edition. You can see the whole issue here.

In the news
A new video obtained by the AP, shows Louisiana Governor Kathleen Blanco assuring the president that the levees had not been breached. This comes just a day after a video shows a weatherman warning the administration that the levees might not keep out hurricane waters.

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The NY Times is reporting that the GOP may consider a former Pentagon spokeswoman (free registration) to run against Hillary Clinton for the N.Y. senate seat. This follows the disastrous campaign of Jeanine F. Pirro as the GOP frontrunner in that state. Of course the prominent conservative talking heads in the media are convinced that Hillary is going to run for the presidency in 2008. They think a Senate loss two years before that election will kill her momentum.

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Here’s a special link for you: The online archives of This American Life. This week’s show, “Cat and Mouse,” is really good. David Sedaris is giving an evening of readings here in April, but you couldn’t drag Your Sister to the show.

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This is coming to the Cartoon Network this year:

Class of 3000. The half-hour series featuring a group of musically gifted kids at the WestleySchool for Performing Arts in Atlanta is set to premiere in November. When former student Sunny Bridges returns to regain something he lost on his way to fame, he brings sunshine to the lives of the culturally diverse students. The series was created by Outkast member Andre Benjamin, who will contribute music and his voice talent to the series. Other cast members are Tom Kenny, Crystal Scales (Static Shock), Jennifer Hale (The Powerpuff Girls), Janice Kawaye (Hi Hi Puffy AmiYumi) and Jeff Glen Bennet (Johnny Bravo). A dozen half-hour episodes and a one-hour premiere are being produced at Cartoon Network Studios in Burbank, Calif.

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And just for fun: Triumph The Comic Insult Dog goes to Chinatown.

Lent and "Lost" (no spoilers)

Your Sister stuck to her Lent guns and hit the gym again. She wears mighty cute workout clothes. Mighty cute. I did not go to the gym yet as I promised myself I wouldn’t until I finish the pile of paperwork she needs help with. School stuff, you know. The day I begin my non-PS2 Lent is the day I hear about this fantastic new game released on Tuesday. Grr.

“Lost” was new last night, and it was solid from start to finish. You have to catch up so we can yap about it. But if you start watching new episodes without seeing the rest of the first season, I think you’re brain would pop. The progress made in two years is both completely out of left field and strangely underwhelming. I mean, if you watch that spectacular first episode and then watch something from the last two months, you may as well be watching two different shows. I can’t tell if I’m happy with the direction they’ve gone, and I admit that’s perhaps because of a full year of online speculation. I’ve seen so many theories – and presented and amended my own – that I’m saturated by the myriad potential directions. It’s still a great show to watch, very well done on all levels. The best I can say about it is that the writers seem to know where they want to go and what the answers will be. If we get a satisfying conclusion when the series winds down, it may become the best, most accessible sci-fi show TV has produced since “Twilight Zone.” What’s that, you say? “Star Trek?” Nah, Fan fiction and nostalgia made that show last. The subsequent series all surpass what the original show presented, although the original “Next Generation” seasons are painfully dated. It took a few years before it became really good.

The Picture of the Day
I waited a few days to post this pending some proof that it’s fake. But apparently, it’s real. Let’s say it is. As much as I support wide-open debate, this smells instead like desperate spin.

In the news
A newly released administration video conference call tape shows the president and former FEMA chief Mike Brown were warned that the levees could be “topped” during Hurricane Katrina. Some are saying this counters the president’s subsequent comments that no one could predict the levees would break. I don’t think this is proof of an abject lie. It does however suggest that higher-ups failed to toke seriously the potential damage warnings. The end result is the same: FEMA dropped the ball, and while Bush can’t be held directly responsible for that, it does leave another bruise on his tenure. The continuing mismanagement of resources isn’t helping.

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Bush convinced India to join a nuclear treaty that would allow inspectors to check some of that country’s reactors. We’ll give them equipment and material even though they have yet to sign the proliferation treaty, just like Iran. Granted, India is a lot more friendly to us than Iran. A suicide bombing before Bush’s visit killed a U.S. diplomat in Pakistan.

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The cardinal of Los Angeles is leading the effort within the Catholic Church to ignore the Immigration Reform Act calling for churches to validate immigration status before offering services. The cardinal and a group of church officers say they won’t obey the act if it becomes a law, even if it means jailtime. I have to say I agree with them. The church has historically been a locus of sanctuary; it’s almost a cliché in storytelling. You can’t expect priests to turn in illegals or turn the needy away without paperwork. They can’t ask for a green card while delivering the wafers. If the government wants to grab these people that badly, they need to beef up border security, not rely on the clergy to turn them in.

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The NFL is nearing a fiasco as talks break down between labor and management. The argument is, of course, over money. The players want a bigger percentage of the collective bargaining agreement; this provides for all teams to share an equal percentage of a profit pool and limits teams to a salary cap. They can only spend so much on payroll. The talks break down just a free agency begins, and the question looms: If there is no new deal on the CBA, will the 2007 season have any salary caps? Will owners have any limits on what they can offer players around the league in order to build a Super Bowl-ready team? If you’re a lowly perennial cellar-dweller team, would you spend everything to make a team that can instantly contend? The absolute worst outcome would be another player lockout, like the one that lead to the scab-player season. That would be worse than no season at all, as with pro hockey last year. I think this will get worked out; the NFL is the nation’s biggest sport culturally and too many would lose too much by its stumbling.

Lent

As Ash Wednesday loomed, Your Sister and I hashed out our Lent surrenders. I, of course, am not Anglican, but since we’ve dated I’ve joined her in solidarity. This year, I’m giving up the PlayStation2. Your Sister will start exercising again. We both need to; the holiday season has bequeathed many parties and leftovers, and we need to shed the winter weight. The cold weather, hearty meals, and TiFaux have lead to a couch-based hibernation. She thinks she’ll need to bring more work home, and that’s fine with me. I can work on the comics while she dishes out grades. Also, we’re starting to look at the yard and making mental lists of what needs to be done with it.

Speaking of TV time, we watched “Sex and the City” last night. I think Your Sister has added a new man to her mental harem: David Duchovny. He played the high-school sweetheart of Carrie. In one scene, he shows up at her door in a white Izod polo shirt, and I believe I heard Your Sister gasp. This makes, what, 13 guys on her wish list now.

The new glasses frames don’t work with my previous short haircut, and I’ve grown out my hair a little. I had it cut yesterday to clean it up and got my first cut from a guy since I was in high school. Did a good job too, but he was meticulous to the point of being obsessive. I thought I was never going to get home. I go to a local stylists hop in the Wal-Mart plaza because they do a good job for the $8 price. (Note: I’ve gotten bad haircuts for $20 and bad haircuts for $7. A good haircut for $8 is something that does not embarrass me). The only problem with that shop is that the women tend to get each other worked up over their lousy husbands and boyfriends. If you happen to sit in their chairs while they’re in a rant, they’ll chop your hair like they’re pruning hedges. I’m surprised I can still wear glasses with the way they’ve snipped my ears. Why do I go back? Good haircuts for $8.

The Picture of the Day
Making the online rounds today is this photo of Harry Potter star Emma Watson striking a pose. She’s 15 and British so swigging Corona should be OK for her native fans, but it’s bound to give her street cred in the States as a Paris/Lindsay/ partygirl. After seeing the most recent film and Ralph Fiennes rocking it as Voldemort, I’m squarely in the bad-guy’s corner.

In the news
More bombings in Iraq today. That curfew may need to go back in effect.

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Bush heads to India today after stopping over in Afghanistan to talk shop with new president Hamid Karzai.

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NPR’s “On the Media” host Bob Garfield talked with Farnaz Fassihi, a reporter with the Wall Street Journal about media coverage of Iraq:

BOB GARFIELD: When you read criticism of the press in general, that it is somehow so fixated on bad news that it doesn't report the good, that it's essentially suppressing the good news out of Iraq, what do you all say to one another? How do you react?
FARNAZ FASSIHI: I can just say that if there were five car bombs going off in New York and 50 people kidnapped a day, I'm sure that metro reporters would be writing those stories and not talking about the school that was painted. When you're sitting in Iraq and putting your neck on the line to try to bring as balanced a story as possible, it's very frustrating to hear criticism like that, because you know, as a professional reporter, that the only reason you're there is because you want to convey the truth. And I can say that everyone is trying to go out their extra mile to find out exactly what's happening there, good or bad, to try to find progress, obstacles, frustration. And I think, considering, we've done a pretty good job. I'm proud of what my colleagues have achieved.

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Several former members of the “West Wing” cast are returning for the last episodes, including Rob Lowe. The new show from “WW”creator Aaron Sorkin is still being cast, but WW alums have joined the project: behind the scenes at a faux Saturday Night Live. Sounds a lot like “SportsNight,” the Sorkin show that preceded (and created character templates for) “West Wing.”

National Pancake Day

A slow day at Maison Debacle. Your Sister worked a little later to get ready for tomorrow’s Parent Open House at the school. Tonight she’s at school until 7, knocking us out of the church’s Shrove Tuesday Pancake Dinner. I was looking forward to it. I haven’t had pancakes since we three went to Biltmore House and ate at McDonald’s. I still might be able to drown my pancake sorrows at Ihop, offering free pancakes today with a charity donation. You might also remember during that breakfast that we joked about giant apes auditioning for the lead role in King Kong. That was a fun day. And then it got funner at the winery tour, trying our Italian accent on Sangiovese and getting pickled on copious free samples. Ah, joy, thy name is “free hooch.”

The weekly Wings and Wrestling was fun as always as the WWE sets up storylines for its annual blow-out Super Bowl pay-per-view, WrestleMania. I'll post the angles before the big show so you can talk your apartment buddies into watching and howling at the show.

The Picture of the Day
I designed this week’s logo at The-W.com, the wrestling message board. OK, “designed” is misleading; I stole the title from the Wonder Woman TV series. I post there under the name of my old wrestling newspaper column alias, Matt Tracker.

In the news
The curfew in Baghdad was lifted, and five bombings promptly hit the city. About 1,300 Iraqis have died since last week’s shrine bombing.

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The Supreme Court will hear the case involving Playmate Anna Nichole Smith and her dead husband’s family over the rights to his billions. The Supremes are weighing whether federal courts can rule in state probate decisions.

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The Coast Guard says it couldn’t give its OK to the ports deal citing lapses in intelligence information about the prospective Dubai owners.

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The newest CBS poll says the presidents’ approval rating has slipped to 34%. That’s a new low.

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The founder of Domino’s Pizza is reportedly trying to establish a town in Florida that will be governed by strict Catholic dogma.

I'm An Idiot #274

Friday was the usual low-key night: dinner, couch time, early to bed. The evening acts as an airlock through which we prepare for the weekend’s reduced pressure. Nothing gets accomplished on Friday night; we slough off work and slowly wind down.

So when Saturday emerges, we’re ready for pretty much anything. A very weird emotional dream left me worn out, and I had no energy when I woke up. Instead of hitting the gym, I hid in the Greg Cave and worked on the computer. I had noticed that my pro work art files were missing. They weren’t on the new, snazzy PC I bought In December and they weren’t on my at-work computer. As I swept through the new PC, running searches under all possible names, I realized: a) I couldn’t find any of the professional work I had done over the last ten years; and b) they also might no longer be on the old PC. Cue the fainting.

You recall that the old PC’s Windows ME fell apart. I couldn’t run any Windows options save shutting down the computer. If I ran a search, it locked up. If I tried to open My Computer, it locked up. I decided to get a new PC instead of wiping the Windows and starting over on the old system. Fortunately, I could use a non-Windows CD-burning program to copy all my files. In doing this, I apparently never copied my pro stuff. So Sunday saw me unearthing the old PC, plugging it back together, finding the old files, breathing a mammoth sigh of relief, and copying them to CDs. It took a while because my old PC’s CD burner was glacial.

But back to Saturday. That morning, before we departed for some shopping, I watched a little of the 1967 Barefoot in the Park movie. It featured a screenplay written by Neil Simon and three stars who originated the Broadway roles: Robert Redford as Paul, Mildred Natwick as his mother-in-law, and Herb Edelman as the Phone Guy. You might remember the recent NY Times review of the revived play and my surprise at how anyone could make the play unfunny. After seeing the film, I see how this can happen. The movie is SLOW. I suspect the actors are waiting a beat to deliver their lines to give audiences a chance to laugh. This kills the spirit of the dialogue. Simon’s scripts are meant to be delivered quick and straight. You don’t have top act them so much as clearly enunciate. Those air pockets are a bad idea. You don’t see that in the film version of “The Odd Couple” or the other, better Simon adaptations on film. I acknowledge that films of the ‘60s work on a different pace than current films, but that’s no excuse. The Marx Brothers’ better films – A Night At The Opera, Duck Soup – were made 20 years earlier. They have those pauses, and they still crack you up. The Barefoot film just makes you chuckle. I also suspect that the feeling of betrayal over Jane Fonda’s Vietnam actions is exacerbated by the deep disappointment of huge, misguided efforts committed by someone who was, at that time, so stunningly hot. Imagine the current film pin-ups – Scarlet, Angelina, Jessica – cheering for the Taliban. Jane is distractingly cute in Barefoot.

After that we tried to buy cell phones at Best Buy. Looks like Verizon will be our only option for coverage here in the mountains. We perused the plan rates and noticed the fine print fees and even settled on phones with an acceptable amount of bells and whistles. This took about 20 minutes. We wanted to be confident in what we were doing, new as we are to whole affair. We get settled and ask for some help. And we’re promptly told they don’t have enough phones in stock. Quoth the Homer: Urge to kill rising. So no phones. Not this weekend. And we may be without for some time. If they merely had enough inventory, we’d be all en-cell-enated. I suspect (as I do often) that they short-stock those phones to bait-and-switch us to the higher-end, more expensive models.

Saturday night we attended the retirement party of Your Sister’s friends. We were there about three hours, shooting the bull with all sorts of school folks and making plans for house parties. We’re hosting two sets of couples from her church on Friday for lasagna. We were hoping to visit one of the school-friend couples Thursday, but I don’t the schedules will work.

But back to Sunday, I helped Your Sister record scores on schoolwork, and we snacked for dinner. I finally showed her “Smile Time,” the most accessible of episodes from the fifth season of Angel. This is where the big, dark vampire hero is magically turned into a puppet. She laughed. When she was supposed to, too. I also got to show her the actress we met at DragonCon. Unfortunately, she didn’t do anything particularly funny in this episode so Your Sister thinks I just have a crush on her.

The Picture of the Day
From here on, Monday will be Sketch Day. This one was an extended doodle from a few months back.

In the news
The Sunni Iraqi government delegation is willing to go back to the table if the Shiites release some occupied mosques. This follows a weekend when Baghdad shut down at the borders and under daytime curfew.

RIP Don Knotts

Don Knotts was that type of performer who knew that he should stick with what worked, and for him, it was broad comedy. He didn't do impressions. Didn't do pratfalls. Didn't work blue. He was a clown, and for generations of TV fans, he was THE clown. His Barney Fife was the epitome of a man who took his job too seriously, and his other characters precisely depicted men stunned by success stumbled upon, often despite their shortcomings.

Fife, for me, was an institution, a name brand that existed before my first memory and popped up throughout my life: Mr. Limpet played constantly in reruns on our static-peppered TV before we got cable. My parents took me to see Private Eyes and The Apple Dumpling Gang at theatre matinees. He replaced the Ropers on "Three's Company," a show I was took young to know was filled with sex jokes. And, of course, in the South especially, he was Barney Fife. Before Nick At Night helped make retro TV cool, Fife was as common a cultural benchmark as Johnny Carson and Jimmy Carter. To announce Knotts's death, Fark.com -- a site infamous for too-cool headline jokes and self-referential comedy -- referred to Fife's unused bullet in the shirt pocket. You couldn't escape Barney. The local NBC affiliate still runs "Andy Griffith" reruns whenever the network can't fill the time. It's the only show I can remember that has run on all four local network affiliates at one time or another.

Now my confession: I hate "The Andy Griffith Show." Never took a liking to it. I didn't like the cartoonish Goober or Gomer or Ernest or Floyd or Otis, and Aunt Bea was nowhere near as cool as Aunt Harriet from "Batman." But Barney was funny. Gene Siskel said you can't convince someone to find something funny or sexy. Either you do or you don't. A whole lotta folks found Barney funny. Knotts's seemed perfectly content to make people laugh with the most accessible humor possible. His Barney remains a character grandparents can show their grandkids without any disclaimers or hesitation. Generations can enjoy him at the same time, and that's an achievement indeed.

Amazon Is Magic

I got an email yesterday saying an Amazon.com order was sent back to them by the local (read: hick, yokel, Mayberry) post office. Instead of forwarding my shipment to my new address, they sent it back to Amazon. It makes no sense; just Wednesday I received mail sent to my previous address but forwarded to my new one by the PO folks. Grr. Bureaucratic inconsistency make Greg mad.

I used the email link from Amazon to contact their customer service options. Included in them is the option to have them call you. You click a button and input your phone number. You then select when you want them to call. I selected the "right now." As soon as I clicked enter, the phone rang. It's the automated Amazon system. It was instantaneous. I expected some time to be lost through programming processing. No. They called. Immediately.

So I talked to them and confirmed that the order is back to Amazon, and that's ultimately OK. I swung by Best Buy to get the items (“Angel” Season 5 and Serenity DVDs). I called Amazon solely to verify that they indeed had the order returned, so I wouldn’t buy the items, drive home, and find my order on my doorstep.

My point: Amazon customer service is muy bueno. But that immediate callback is startling. I'm shocked by its efficiency.

Your Sister is getting better. Another day of reading and napping seems to have steeled her to return to work. I cooked a quick meal of broiled pork chops and zucchini. Did you know that if zucchini is broiled or grilled, it tastes exactly like corn? Truly. We couldn’t believe it. Normally we bake of stir-fry it.

We watched the Olympics almost exclusively last night, and it was quite the show. NBC showed the women’s skate finals spread out among clips of the men’s freestyle Downhill Flail. There is, of course, a great discrepancy between the presentations for ice skating and the other winter games. While it gets a bad rap for pretension and gentility, ice skating is the closest the winter games have to artistry amid the action. I traditionally favor the summer games, especially gymnastics, but I admit that the choreography mandated in gym routines is often stiff and flat. A wrist wave here. A twirled elbow there. It’s just filler unless a gymnast has some sense of fun and comfort. Everyone else is mindlessly stirring the air between flips. But ice skating benefits from constant motion. Even if the skaters are tensing up before a spin or jump, they’re still gliding. Combine that with the blurred depth of the rink caused by camera focus and their adjustment in turn angles, and skating has continuous energy gymnastics can’t match. Of course, it can still get boring. And the costumes can be garish. And the make-up can look like it was applied during airplane turbulence.

But last night’s work was solid, even by the gals who had no shot at medaling. The most consistent improvement in women’s skating is that virtually every jump was followed by a smooth transition from jump to follow-through leg extension. That was a touch that divided the main-eventers and the runners-up. No longer it seems. Instead, the women were separated by consistency of energy. Many, many skaters gave up on their routine and diluted their planned jumps. Triples became doubles over and over, and that kept many from cracking the top five. NBC was building up American Sasha Cohen all night long and referred to a leg injury possibly resulting from a warm-up fall. They didn’t mention the obvious back pad she wore while walking backstage. Unfortunately, after all the hype, she fell 20 seconds into her routine, killing her shot at gold. She took silver, however, and that’s nothing to sneeze at. The gold went to Shizuka Arakawa, Japan’s first gold medalist in figure skating. Sarah Meier of Switzerland had the best costume, a decent picture of which I can’t find with any search engine.

This weekend marks the real beginning of the annual comic-book convention season with a huge con in New York. At this show, a seminar on graphic novel sales put into focus the growth of the market:

2001: $75 mil
2002: 110 mil
2003: 165 mil
2004: 207 mil
2005: 245 mil (estimate)

Japanese manga continues to dominate by almost 20% over the domestic superhero genre. But that’s somewhat of a skewed stat. Manga incorporates everything from heroes to fantasy to romance to robots. American fare is virtually all superhero. It’s not a fair comparison, but manga does continue to capture the teen reading market especially among girls.

Speaking of comics, I’m still reading the Nelson Mandela editorial cartoon compilation you gave me. Let me return the favor: If you haven’t kept up with Doonesbury lately, a major subplot involves lead character B.D. recovering from amputation after his service in Iraq. A collection of the initial stories is available from Amazon.com, but you can read the majority of material online for free. For modern comic strips, this is groundbreaking stuff. And speaking again of comics …

The Picture of the Day
Sony released this picture form the next Spidey movie. It comes out in May. Of 2007.

In the news
The UAE company says it will hold off active control of the U.S. ports, and the White House says this allows Congress to review the deal before making it official. Locally, N.C. Senator Libby Dole took a strong stand against the deal and then learned husband Bob was hired to lobby for the port company.

She's Sick

Your Sister was sick all day, as I discovered when I got home and found her reading my comics. Yes, she was that sick. After the Elektra DVD debacle, I handed her a stack of Elektra comics all written by Frank Miller (the guy who also created Sin City) and told her those comics are what she had hoped to see in the film. Another sign of how sick she was is that she actually asked to watch “Iron Chef.” It’s my own fault she’s not so hip on it anymore; I would never miss it when we were first dating, and I think she grew tired of the formula. The episode we watched off our TiFaux featured Conger Sea Eel, and half the fun is watching the chefs try to catch them. Unfortunately, the show gets very bloody right after that.

We skipped the Olympics. Well, that’s not true. We tried to watch but all we found were commercials. We managed to see the very beginning of the women’s Downhill Flail but turned quickly after a competitor collapsed in agony when her surgically repaired knee gave out on a landing. The women’s single skating finals are tonight, and I imagine we’ll watch that.

Another side effect of Your Sister’s illness is that she apparently becomes Wile E. Coyote Super-Genius, as she hammered me at Jeopardy last night. It wasn’t even close. Even nailed the planetary Final Jeopardy question, and astronomy is supposed to be my forte. She’s staying home from work again today, so I’m desperate to find cheats online so I can win. {Note to Wife: No, not really.]

The adjusted glasses continue to be an improvement. No headaches and fewer twitches. I wonder if the darker frames are affecting my lazy eye, maybe pulling the pair to normal position.

The Picture of the Day
This is our new mutual addiction: Ice cream packaged with pieces of birthday cake. I nominate the inventor for Eternal Hero status.

In the news
When even Tom DeLay says a shady deal is a bad political move, you have to consider the port contracts in trouble. Bush contends the ports do not constitute a security risk under UAE control, and news accounts say a security deal forces the UAE to help future investigations into terrorism. The White House press secretary says Bush learned of the deal from the media. I’m for delegating responsibilities – in fact, I delegate all of them – but shouldn’t this at least come up in a daily briefing? The official White House website previously posted video of the briefings, but no more. I suspect the common scene of McClellan foundering behind the podium worried the image-conscious advisers.

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The fallout from the Iraq Shia shrine attack is very not good. Sunnis claim at least 160 of their mosques were attacked in retaliation, and news reports say at least 110 are dead. The Sunni parliament coalition has backed out of talks to help form the federal government.

Wednesday

The Brevard High basketball team made it into the state playoffs by beating a team that had won their previous 61 games. Last night, the team started the first round of sectional playoffs, and, man, has this team gotten better. They never trailed Madison and were rarely ahead by less than five points. They pass well, but I was really impressed by the midpoint jumpers. Instead of launching three-pointers or barreling to the hoop to draw the foul (and risk injury), they would stop short, shoot, and make most of them.

After the game, we moseyed to Juan’s restaurant with another couple for mucho beer and enchiladas. So Tuesday went like this: work, commute, game, Mexican, sleep. A fine, fine day even if we did miss the Olympics. We’ll catch up on the games tonight as there is no new “Lost.” Again. I initially had no problem watching the show in batches – three weeks of new shows, two weeks of reruns – but there’s so much to keep track of now that I worry I’m losing interest. Thankfully, a dedicated (read: insane) group of people online help me juggle the subplots, and unfortunately, encourage me to come up with scenarios to tie it all together. We have our favorites: nanite technology, time travel, memory-swapping, unknown family connections. It’s sci-fi fan fiction run amok.

The Picture of the Day.
A sneak peek of the Academy Awards set, courtesy of The Envelope.

In the news
The destruction of the Shia golden dome in Iraq has crated a riotous frenzy and raised concerns of the growing civil war in Iraq. It’s considered impolite to suggest Iraq could crumble into such conflict, and many are aware that a few are trying to herd them there. I don’t think it’s inevitable, but it seems increasingly possible. Bombings in Iraq occur virtually every day, and some of our most prominent talking heads downplay the attacks by comparing Iraq’s death toll to the average murder rates in major American cities. That’s crap, it is. People are getting bombed in Iraq by the dozens weekly if not daily. That’s not crime. That’s terrorism. And if the Shia return with like means, then you’ve got civil war. I don’t know how long the Shia leaders can be placated to play the “big man.” And if Shiite Muslims begin to act despite their clerics’ admonitions, then those leaders do no good to the country or to our troops as a calming influence.

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Bush is threatening to veto a Congressional bill to counter the sale of port control to a UAE company. This would be his first veto, and it’s odd that he’s pull that lever over this matter. Rumors allege that he has financial ties to that company. Those rumors also raise the specter of Bush family ties to the Nazis in WWII, and anytime someone starts using the word “Nazi” when talking about a president, my eyes roll so far back into my head that they slide down inside my feet. It’s a shrill card to play in any argument. The ports have already been under the auspices of a foreign company (a British agency is selling the rights), and yet, in all the talk about port security during the last election rhetoric or the current complaints about porous borders, the notion of foreign-owned port management never came up. While the talking heads argue over racism derailing the contract, I still question any outside agency overseeing the ports. And here's a new twist: The White House now says Bush didn't know about the deal until after it was completed. Does this foreshadow a Cabinet secretary falling on his sword?

Three-Day Weekend

Saturday, Your Sister and I had lunch at the local Irish pub with our pals, Travis and Kathy and their German exchange student, Tonia. They’re expecting and have sonograms to display their little smudge of joy. Kathy’s convinced it’s a girl; Travis is convinced it’s a tadpole. We like to meet up on the weekend at this pub, and the joint doesn’t give us much choice: They close the kitchen at 8 p.m. on weekdays. Even here in Mayberry, that’s pathetic. And a bit stupid. They might as well post a sign reading “Please eat at the Mexican restaurant a hundred yards away.” But the burgers are good and huge, and we can sit for a while and rant against the world.

I should also note that my high-school buddy Esther is expecting; she emailed her sonogram to me last week The couple we saw Hamlet with on Friday are also with child, and all this fertility discourages us from sleeping in the same room.

That night we watched the Olympics. Shani Davis won gold in speed skating and caught hell for not helping Chad Hedrick win five gold medals by competing in a team skate. I don’t get it. He’s there to win his event. He’s trained to win his event. Why should he risk that to help Chad pile up his medals?

During all this to-do, we took an Olympic break and popped in our dusty, unopened Elektra DVD. This was a spin-off of the better-than-expected Daredevil film, and it let Marvel Comics see if a solo heroine film could work. While I think one can, this film isn’t proof. It’s ninety minutes of ho-hum action, sparse SFX, and weak character development. For a comic geek like myself, the worst offense is that this is in no way the Elektra that would draw people to the theatres. The comic Elektra doesn’t need sleeping pills, doesn’t fall for frumpy dads on the run from super-ninjas, and doesn’t get sappy over super-powered teenage girls. This reminded me quite a bit of King Arthur, the Clive Owen film that shoehorned in Camelot names to characters who neither behaved like the Arthur crew or undertook any Camelot-like deeds. Elektra is just like that. Save for the names of characters, this has nothing to do with the characters' source stories. I had heard nothing but bad things about the film, but Your Sister was curious enough for us to buy the DVD unseen. She likes Jennifer Garner. To be more precise, she likes confident action heroines. Garner does a fine job with what was given her, but it’s in no way a good product. We wondered if a longer edit might make a better film, and, when we were in Best Buy the next day, I noticed the director’s cut Elektra DVD. It’s only three minutes longer and includes “a new sound remix.” This is not enough to get through our door. When we saw Kingdom of Heaven on DVD a few weeks back (this is the “Orlando Bloom in the Crusades” film), we both could tell this was a good movie hacked to a shorter length, and what we’re left with is a hunk vehicle with no substance. When the director’s cut of Kingdom comes out, we’ll definitely get it.

On Sunday, we went to H&R Block and got our taxes done, our first as Man and Hot Wife. I managed to have two Caramel Crackaccinos this day, and I still have yet to blink.

We caught more Olympics, including the controversial ice dancing. By controversial, I of course mean “inappropriately dressed for that kind of activity.” This year’s event saw a lot of crashes as the couples tried dangerous tricks to score more points. One Canadian gal was literally hip-tossed flat on the ice. While the sport markets itself to the more feminine audiences, it stands a better chance of respectability by courting the Winter X Games crowd. Since these couples are daring to bend backward and grab their skates and twirl around the rink, why not encourage them to backflip (France’s Surya Bonaly has done it for close to a decade now) and have them dress for body protection? Move away from the bangles and glitter and let these athletes display themselves as such, not as full-size girl dolls. And ditch all that eye shadow. It’s hideous. You might lose the little pre-teens, but you’d gain a larger teen male audience, the key demographic for sponsors.

On Monday, with the day off, I hit the doctor’s office to get my glasses adjusted. They’re a bit better, but there’s still a transition of focus within the left lens. It’s as if I have bifocals. They assured me I don’t, and now I wonder if I need to tell the doctor to strengthen my prescription. I stare at a computer screen all day at work, and the new glasses have given me the bad headaches and squint lines. When the glasses were fixed yesterday, I thought the best way to try them out would be to, of course, stare at a computer screen for a few hours, and that’s where my glorious videogames paid for themselves. Mondays, as always, mean Wings and Wrestling, but before we saw the night’s WWE show, we watched “Mad About You” (your sister’s favorite sitcom), and I spotted one of the actors’ from my favorite all-time film, From Beyond, the 1980s b-movie. We also caught a "Star Trek: Next Generation" episode where Troi's mom argues against a planet's custom of killing anyone who reaches the age of 60. Some of those episodes can get heavy-handed and dull, but good acting by David Ogden Stiers (you know, Winchester from "MASH") and Mrs. Roddenberry elevate it. Watching this was my wife's idea by the way; turns out she's just as much a geek as I am.

The Monday WWE show, “Raw,” featured the in-ring debut of the Spirit Squad, a five-man cheerleading team decked in green and white. Before last night, all they had done was pop into the ring and perform a lame cheer and annoy those of us who hate dumb gimmicks (yes, some wrestling gimmicks aren’t dumb). Last night, however, they worked a match and put on a high-flying clinic, including the use of a mini trampoline. These guys can work. I now think this may be the greatest gimmick in all of pro wrestling. I am officially a fan.

We also watched some more Olympics last night, the highlight of which was the men's aerial jumps. This combines the ski jump with flips, twists, and turns done at slightly less than the speed of sound. It can only be deemed the Downhill Flail. Everyone lands on a steep hill and have no choice but to bounce on their tushies lest the landing crush their ankles. I can't tell how the judges determine the winner because all the jumps appear to be the same thing: a flurry of limbs. Tonight, Shani and Chad go head-to-head for a medal, and Shani has the full support of the household.

The debate rages over the proposed sale of domestic port operations to a company from the United Arab Emirates. The Senate majority leader has called to cancel the deal. Some consider the sale to a foreign company a national security issue, and some, I suspect, don’t like the word “Arab” in the name of any country. There are references to the UAE as the native country of two of the 9/11 hijackers and to the country supporting terrorist organizations in the past. It’s a dumb move to outsource this to anyone, period, and I don’t understand why a domestic company isn’t given more consideration for the deal. I don’t think it should be a government agency though; there’s too much potential for operational changeover between administrations. … The Supreme Court will hear a case concerning the constitutionality of banning late-term abortions. … David Edmondson, the CEO of Radio Shack, has resigned after it was discovered he lied on his resume about graduating with two degrees. He only completed two semesters. Speaking of disbelief, how is Radio Shack still in business? I’ve been in two stores in as many states in the past 10 years, and both were small and depressing. The one closest to our house has items for sale in packages from the 1980s. …

Hamlet

On Friday, The Wife and I saw the Aquila Theatre Company's production of Hamlet. It's a smallish touring troupe; there's only eight names on the cast list. It was a very simple set with maybe a dozen props, including moving furniture pieces. The backdrop was an enlarged photo of what looked like a cobblestone road hub, but at that size it appeared as a shattered window or a spider's web. If you're traveling as they are, you have to work simple. According to their website, the show tours in tandem with Jekyll and Hyde throughout the Spring of 2006.

As to the show itself, Hamlet is such a cultural landmark that, unless the audience know absolutleys nothing about the play, it's impossible to judge a production on its own. This is the Moby Dick of plays: not the longest, not the most popular, but the most well-known of all titles and characters. This is not a show you can merely breeze through and hope the dialogue carries the production. You have to understand what the characters mean when they speak, aside from the random "bodkins" and"fardels," and unfortunately, there's no critical consensus as to when Hamlet is acting crazy or truly has lost his fardel-marbles.

I'm not sure every scene of this play is given its due: the speech and direction seemed hasty, as if the actors were rushing through a slower moment to get to one with more meat to it. For instance, Gertrude announces Ophelia's death by standing in place and speaking to the audience. There is no interaction with the other characters here. Similarly, the ghost appears behind the actors, leaving them to act toward the audience. Osric is presented with a hurried Irish accent (an Irishman in Denmark?), and his explanation of the duel is a quick mumble. The "to be or not to be speech" not only was recited at warp speed, but I think they moved it.

There was quite a bit bumped around or bumped entirely from the show. The big confrontation with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern is given instead to Polonius. Fortinbras doesn't appear, and the play ends as Hamlet dies; there is no coda as with Romeo and Juliet. Osric doesn't get his comedy scene, and I'm not sure Hamlet ever learned about Ophelia's death onstage. Again, one wonders if knowledge of the show works against you when viewing a production that makes edits. Someone who never read the play might have loved it. I was left a mite confused about their choices and whether the changes makes the play illogical to a newcomer. But these changes, one thinks, are made primarily to speed the play along. The audience I was a part of was mostly old, and I don't know if their bladders could cope with the full daffy Dane.

Speaking of age, my pet theory of Hamlet is that he's a kid who has to move quickly from book-learning to street smarts at the nadir of his mopey-goth teen phase, and I'm glad to see a young Hamlet in this show. Youth excuses some of his eccentricities, bad judgments and his famous dilemma of acting versus thinking. This is a show ultimately made of great moments, when the actors nail the scene or the emotional moment amid the rush and edits. For instance Emily Bennett delivers the best crazy Ophelia I've seen, and the interpretation of R and G as ivy-league frat boys is so brilliant, I cracked up before they got to speak. Also, when Claudius has his confessional scene, the actor almost steals the whole show. The show doesn't live up to the high standard set by Shenendoah Shakespeare (with which I always dreamed of running away), but Aquila gives you a two-and-a half hour injection of The Bard without dumbing it down.

This was better than the near-camp of Kenneth Branagh's 1996 version, but didn't have the invested gravity of the Mel Gibson adaptation.