The Nick Hornby book, "Fever Pitch", about a fanatical football (as in soccer) writer who follows the ever-losing Arsenal is being remade into a movie about a fanatical baseball writer who follows the ever-losing Red Sox. However, now that the Red Sox have won the World Series the screenwriters are rewriting the end of the movie! The rewritten ending, Jimmy Fallon as star, and Farrelly brothers directing does not, in my opinion, bode well for this film. I'll probably just rent the still-fresh 1997 version starring Colin Firth instead.
October 2004 Archives
Yo mama so stupid she doesn't realize this joke is simply a member of the broad based set of 'yo mama' jokes, part of a generic category of humor people use to cleverly mock each other, and not an actual insult aimed upon her intelligence.
A new book by Gabriel Garcia Marquez, "Memoria De Mis Putas Tristes" (or "Memories of My Melancholy Whores"), came out today. It is only available in Spanish, which makes me very unhappy. Marquez is one of my favorite authors and it's been 10 years since he's written a novel and, damn it, I'm ready to read another one. If a translation isn't available soon I'm going to have to make my Spanish-speaking girlfriend read me this version.
I'm back from vacation not a day too early, because if I ate one more cheesesteak or slice of pizza (or both) at three in the morning I'm not sure what would happen to me, but I can only assume it wouldn't have been good.
1) The movie "Primer" is very, very good. I don't really want to say much about it for fear of giving anything away, but it is definitely worth your time. It is a complex movie that needs some thought, so go to see it with a friend who will be willing to sit around afterwards and discuss it. And if you don't like that sort of thing, don't see the movie.
2) The showing I attended of Ionesco's "Rhinoceros " was of poor production value, which made it hard to appreciate. The protagonist was acted as a whining coward as opposed to a determined individualist, (and in my opinion it should have been the latter) altering the whole tone of the play. Anyway, that's what you get with small Off Broadway shows.
3) At the risk of sounding like the sort of person who holds everything to the high standards of New York City, here is a sub-list of things that are better in New York City than in Austin:
a) Pizza
b) Cheesesteaks (though the optional use of cheese whiz is a questionable practice)
c) Sushi
d) Chinese food
e) Delis (especially the matzah ball soup)
f) The ability to get all of the above items at three in the morning
4) Being that I grew up in North Jersey, I'm prone to having the "New York City Is Better Than Anywhere Else In The World" complex. So, to counteract that feeling, here is a sub-list of things that are better in Austin than in New York City:
a) Mexican food
b) BBQ
c) The weather
d) The price of absolutely everything
5) Go see "Primer".
During a long day of inter-state plane travel I read the obnoxiously-named "Don't Dead This Book If Your Stupid" by the strangely-capitalized TiBor FiscHer. At his best I think he's a really great author, though when not at his best he is sort of annoying, sexist, and a little bit like that guy who gets you to laugh once in a while but only because he makes so many dirty jokes that eventually one of them works. This short story collection was decent, and I think his best piece was the shortest one, where a reporter crosses into Romania to view a brief and bloody revolution.
FiscHer's best book by far is "Under the Frog" about a couple of traveling basketball players in communist Hungary on the eve of revolution. Really good stuff. His worst book so far is the most recent "Voyage to the End of the Room" which, frankly, was terrible. FiscHer is completely unable to write from a woman's point of view. His female characters are sex-starved and sleep with strange men, constantly thinking or talking about large male genitalia, and totally incapable of making any concrete decisions about anything. I suppose this is sort of how his male characters act and think also, except that his male characters are always thinking about women but don't manage to score quite as often. I don't know if FiscHer thinks this is how women actually think/act or if he's envisioning that a female character with the same attributes as one of his male characters would end up having sex all the time because they'd be dealing with men rather than women. Whatever. It just doesn't work.
Some things to tide everyone over until I am back from vacation:
1) A new book has been entered on Book Track.
2) I will be seeing a production of Ionesco's "Rhinoceros " tomorrow night. Ionesco is the grandfather of absurdist theater.
3) I am about to go see the critically acclaimed independent film, "Primer". I'll let you know.
That's it. Enjoy my vacation.
"Nobody's Fool" is the second Richard Russo book I've read, the first being the Pulitzer Prize winning "Empire Falls".
Both books are set in previously-bustling-but-now-poor New England towns, feature primarily an older, somewhat bumbling, divorced older man haunted by his own refusal to forgive his awful father (though the third person omniscient narrator often dives into other characters' minds for long sections as well). While both books were excellent, the descriptions of his other books sound remarkably similar so I'll probably take a break before reading Russo novel number three.
Russo has a tendency to take physical objects in the story (a house, a factory, a woman, a diner), use them as a huge metaphorical symbol of how the protagonist cannot let go of the past/forgive his father/achieve true independence/etc., and build up this giant expectation and desire for the protagonist to overcome those obstacles, both phyically and metaphorically. However, in both novels I felt a little bit let down at the end, where it seemed either unclimactic or unresolved when the protagonist finally got around to doing something about it. So as not to spoil anything, I'll provide a made-up example: Let's say a woman's son was killed falling out of a tree in her neighbor's yard and she's subsequently spent the rest of her adult life wondering whether to chop down the offending tree because she stares at it every day thinking about her dead son, and then one day she is out of town to visit a friend and when she comes home she discovers that her neighbor chopped the tree down to make room for a new gazebo and she shrugs and says, "That's a nice gazebo." This did not happen in any of his books, but you get the idea. I kept wondering to myself why Russo had focused 400 pages on creating such a huge obstacle/metaphor for the protagonist if he was going to have some random unfufilling resolution.
In addition, because of his (excellent) ability to dive into the mind of almost every character in the story and make them sympathetic, I felt "Nobody's Fool" didn't actually tie up all the loose ends. But I suppose in "real life" not everybody ends up happy and some of the people you have grown to care about just end up driving off unresolved and you don't know if they ever get to deal with their inner demons or not.
These concerns, however, are somewhat secondary to the depth of the stories and characters, and I think Russo is definitely an author deserving of the Pulitzer Prize. A book doesn't have to be perfect to be great.
No, it's not.
Yes, it is.
No, it obviously is not.
Do you mean to say that it is unintentionally left blank?
No, I mean that it is not left blank.
Is it unintentionally or intentionally not left blank?
Being that the Supreme Plogger has his hand in everything, I'd have to say intentionally.
So you are saying that it is not unintentionally not left blank?
If by that you mean it is intentionally not left blank, than yes.
Couldn't you also say it is not intentionally left blank?
Uhh... No. I see where you're going with this and the answer is no.
But...
I said no. We've already been down that road.
What about...
Look, this isn't that difficult. You're purposely trying to make this difficult when it isn't difficult at all.
In that case, I take offense with your comments about the Supreme Plogger. Wouldn't his existence mean that nothing is unintentional?
Why is that offensive?
It implies there is no free will.
It implies no such thing.
If nothing is unintentional because the Supreme Plogger intends everything, that means no individual can do anything the Supreme Plogger doesn't intend, meaning there is no free will.
First of all, I didn't say that that Supreme Plogger intends everything, just that the Supreme Plogger has his hand in everything.
Yes, but you drew a direct connection between the Supreme Plogger having his hand in everything to this plog not being unintentionally not left blank. That implies the Supreme Plogger's hand being in something has a direct correlation to intent.
A direct correlation to intent does not necessarily imply a direct correlation to specific intent. It may simply mean the difference between left blank and not left blank. The Supreme Plogger simply intends that things are not left blank, but free will still remains.
But if we don't have the free will to be left blank, how can that be truly called free will?
If we were left blank, we would not exist, and then how could we have free will? We only exist to have free will if we are not left blank. And we rely on the Supreme Plogger to intend that we are not left blank.
Regardless, I maintain that it is not free will. It is only free will if the Supreme Plogger does not have his hand in intending we are not left blank because the Supreme Plogger's intent robs us of the free will to be left blank.
Even if there wasn't a Supreme Plogger, which there is, we would still not be involved in the choice to be left blank or not left blank. We live in a ruled universe. Until we are not left blank we do not exist to make the choice to be not left blank. Once we are not left blank the choice has been made for us, whether by a Supreme Plogger or by some other random, scientific explanation. But within the ruled context with which we exist we have free will.
But how ruled is the context? You're saying it is 1% ruled and therefore we have free will. What if it is 50% ruled? What it if is 99.9% ruled? What if in our lifetimes we get one and only one "free" choice. Can we then be said to have free will?
If that one free choice sets a post-ordained direction for everything else in our life, than, yes, our free will determined everything.
What if that one choice is simply the color shoes you wear on your last living day? I'd hardly call that a life of free will.
You know, I think we're taking the concept of the Supreme Plogger and using it as an inaccurate metaphor. I never intended this discussion to go this way.
That's because you have no free will!
The more interesting question is whether the Supreme Plogger intended the conversation to go this way, and, if not, whether that means he lacks free will.
Yes, but alas, we wasted all our time talking about trivial matters and therefore we'll never know.
A new story has been posted to the fiction section. It is very much in draft stage, but such is the result of workshop deadlines.
I remember the NJ HSPT (High School Proficiency Test) had a reading comprehension section where you'd answer a question about which sentence in a brief narrative did not belong. A favorite of mine was a story about a boy who's father had died in Vermont, and the offending sentence was "Vermont is where Cabot cheese is made."
Anyway, along these lines, I was reading an article about a failed controversial copyright bill more suited for discussion on the high-minded Sidey.com 2.0 when I ran across something that struck me as odd. About two paragraphs from the bottom is the following gem:
"The bill also designates the oak as the national tree."
Is this for real? The bill was intended to make it easier to fine or jail people for song/movie swapping. I can't decide whether the bill actually designated the oak as the national tree or whether the author of the article was making a sarcastic comment about its wide-reaching nature (along the lines of saying "this bill includes everything but the kitchen sink"). Perhaps the bill was defeated not because of the controversial copyright measures but because Senators prefer elm.
It seems a great deal of October marketing (i.e. shop window signage) revolves around the use of the exclamation "boo" in replace of vaguely "boo"-like syllable fragments. I have three theories:
1) Shop owners actually think this is clever.
2) Shop owners have a great sense of holiday irony and think this mundane pun is so overdone and stupid that it has once again become clever.
3) The concept of word "boo"-itization has simply been deemed a Halloween/October theme, done with total straight-faced seriousness, similar to putting out jack-o-lanterns or other faux-spooky decorations.
I suppose it is number 3, which I can begrudgingly accept, but when I'm lying awake at night pondering my deepest fears it is that I live in a world where everyone thinks saying "boo-tiful" instead of "beautiful" is genuinely funny.
The other Halloween conundrum with which I am faced is costume related, mainly, what should it be? At first I considered going as a zombie, but that seems a little too common. Plus, it would require too much make-up and special effects. Then I thought perhaps I could go as a guy who has been BITTEN by a zombie, which would involve only a small wound on my arm and, I suppose, a slow but tragic deterioration into the living dead. This might be a bit too subtle for most Halloween partygoers.
My costume requirements are:
a) Relatively simple to put together.
b) Don't involve a lot of make-up.
Though since I'm getting a head start this year I might be willing to compromise on the first requirement.
My current ideas are:
1) Guy who has been bitten by a zombie.
2) Some variation on a devil theme (I already have horns and a tail).
3) Some variation on a pimp theme (I have various pimp accoutrements).
4) Something that requires interestingly shaved facial hair (I've been growing my customary pre-Halloween beard just in case).
Perhaps I could be a devil pimp who has been bitten by a zombie (with, of course, interestingly shaved facial hair).
At Sidey.com 2.0's persistent insistence I installed the Firefox browser on my computer. It is clear from initial testing that it is a vile, bitter tool, hell-bent on committing great acts of pure evil. Aside from it's obviously iniquitous nature, it seems pretty much like Internet Explorer except with tabs. Tabs, I admit, are sort of cool. I've also heard some rumblings about less security holes, etc., but if you, like Internet Explorer, had a thousand thieves with high-end lock picks trying to find a way into your house while your neighbor only had to deal with one guy holding a bent wire hanger probably your house would also seem less secure. But, is it really less secure? No. I'm sure Sidey.com 2.0 will regale me with lots of reasons why Firefox is actually more secure rather than just seemingly more secure, but, frankly, I'll be using this blog as an irrational pulpit for the greatness of Microsoft's Internet Explorer.
The installation of Firefox did achieve one goal: the partial completion of a promise I made back in August to fix the site so that the main body is centered on lame, non-IE browsers. Well, the site now works on IE and Firefox. Hopefully the Firefox fix also fixed the site for Safari and Opera, but since my technologically advanced quality assurance labs are neither technologically advanced nor labs I wouldn't know.
Dear Blog,
It's been a long week since I last blogged. How have you been? I've been fine, though a little peaked, and, frankly, a little piqued, homophones that both imply some level of distress, but in rather distinct and, in this case, accurate ways. I am not peaked or piqued at you or because of you, of course, my good blog, but shall we say, in spite of you. And I say that in the idiomatic sense, meaning "regardless", not in the literal sense of spitefulness. But either way it's sort of irrelevant because I was being disingenuous, you had nothing to do with anything, so, really, it wasn't in spite of you (however you choose to define "spite") but, simply, it was irrelevant of you. But that's not why I'm writing. Or should I say: blogging?
So why am I blogging, you ask? No reason. Simply because you are like an old friend with whom one no longer has much in common but with whom one still keeps in touch on a semi-regular basis even if there is nothing compelling or new to discuss, forced to write letter after letter, or, more likely in this technologically advanced age, e-mail after e-mail, even though these letters or e-mails are vapid and pointless and serve only to keep a slowly dying friendship on a vague sort of life support, each letter or e-mail one more gasping breath, until eventually there will be no more, and a few months or years later one will look back and think, "I haven't heard from so-and-so in a long time, perhaps I should contact him or her, but, actually, I never really liked him or her that much anyway so forget it, I suppose I'll just be thankful this relationship is finally over and hope to god he or she doesn't try to contact me again." Fortunately I don't have any friends like that. Except for you, oh blog, except for you.
Your friend, though, to be honest, not really,
Jeff
