Read. Think. Post.

Those three sharp words comprised one of the first, smartest lessons shared with me when I first hopped aboard the runaway internet express in a previous decade. Simple words bandied about by my earliest peers became a brilliant watchword trifecta to remind each other not to post in anger, to cool down before venting any immediate hostile impulses, to refrain from etching anything hasty and regrettable for eternal archiving. Self-control is key. You’re not required by law to reply immediately to anyone who stabs you the wrong way. Stepping back, breathing deeply, and taking a few hours away from your input device can do a world of good.

This snapshot, captured tonight through the magic of a few simple keystrokes and MS Paint, is how not to handle such potential fiascos. The amateurish content-editing is my doing, because of the lines I draw.

Twitter rage

The Twitter account in question was deleted less than half an hour later. A few earlier tweets were part of the same tirade, but I opted for moderate sampling over voyeuristic completism. I’m also not interested in linking to the tacky news story that sparked this reaction because I don’t believe they deserve any click-through traffic. At all.

I’m not normally one for ten-minute posts comprised of a single set of Words to Live By. Consider this an exception to the rule. From a Scriptural standpoint, I’ll point you to James 1:19-20 (NIV):

My dear brothers and sisters, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, because human anger does not produce the righteousness that God desires.

Much more eloquent and pleasingly faith-based from my perspective, but not as easy to fit onto a T-shirt or scribble on a Post-It to stick to your monitor or the back of your phone.

Make these three words Today’s Secret Words, today and every day, and you’ll be astounded at how your internet experience will improve by leaps and bounds.

Read. Think. Post.

#BadTwitterRecs

One of the more amusing one-joke Twitter handles I follow is Bad Netflix Recs, which pokes fun at automated recommendation services with poor logical parameters. Behold examples of the joke:

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An MCC Reader Survey for Every Man, Woman, and Spammer

Once again I’m reporting live from the Department of Trying Something Completely Different and extending this opportunity to YOU, the Viewers at Home, to share your feedback about your Midlife Crisis Crossover reading experience. This may be an imperfect structure (I’ve already encountered one unresolved bug), but I beg your forgiveness and your willingness to humor me in this flighty endeavor.

Assuming I didn’t break anything, embedded in this entry should be a simple survey — two pages, five questions in all — providing statistical info on the MCC readership at large to satisfy my curiosity, to help me think a little harder about what subjects to incorporate here in future entries, to show me whether or not the PollDaddy survey function is worth reusing, and to determine once and for all how many of you are real and how many of you are Matrix holo-henchmen.

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Yes, There’s a Scene After the “Monsters University” End Credits

Monsters University, Disney, PixarHonest truth as of this evening: Midlife Crisis Crossover calls Monsters University “the Best Film of the Year”! So far. Yes, the year is young. Proclamation subject to change without notice, possibly during Oscar preseason.

Seriously, though: looking back at my last several summer action blockbuster spectacular experiences, this Disney/Pixar reboot of Revenge of the Nerds requires less forgiveness of plot holes; boasts characterization truer to the original cast; doesn’t overwrite wide-scale urban destruction with perfunctory offscreen-slapdash-reconstruction happy ending; refuses to play bait-and-switch with its antagonists; and, like Toy Story 3, is a surprisingly top-notch sequel with its own topic to explore rather than acting as a hollow, superfluous extension of the original.

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My Daily View of Downtown Indy if I Stop, Breathe, and Look Around

Despite any work-related stress or discontent I might experience on any or every given weekday, I admit the perks package is above and beyond what friends tell me their employers begrudgingly eke out. One of the less financially grounded, technically more tangible perks: if I can tear myself away from my monitors for a moment, I have ceiling-to-shin-level window seating with a view of two of downtown Indianapolis’ most prominent landmarks.

To one side: the Indiana Statehouse and our official Capitol Dome.

Indiana Statehouse, Indianapolis

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Chicago Photo Tribute #5: the Museum of Broadcast Communication

Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover nearly two months ago:

[This coming] weekend is the fourth annual Chicago Comic & Entertainment Expo (that “C2E2″ thing I won’t shut up about) at Chicago’s McCormick Place convention center, which my wife and I will be attending for our third time. As a tribute to this fascinating city, and an intro to C2E2 newcomers to provide ideas of what else Chicago has to offer while they’re in town, a few of this week’s posts will be dedicated to out experiences in the Windy City when we’re not gleefully clustered indoors with thousands of other comics and sci-fi fans.

…To be continued! Eventually. We’re out of time before C2E2 kicks off tomorrow, but I have a few more Chicago galleries in store, once my annual C2E2 mania subsides.

Now that C2E2 2013 is essentially over (except for one final entry I keep procrastinating), I’m resuming the Chicago Photo Tribute miniseries mostly so I can finish what I started, and partly to get back into the swing of MCC’s travel-minded side in honor of our upcoming 2013 road trip.

During one of our previous Chicago visits, my wife and I took a quick tour of the Museum of Broadcast Communication, currently housed in the first three floors of a former parking garage, with additional floors available for future expansion. The MBC is dedicated to the preservation and presentation of things related to TV and radio, initially on a modest budget by all appearances, but not without a few charming pieces if your expectations are modest and you’re truly interested in specific bits of entertainment history.

Our first sigh upon entering: original doors from the set of The Oprah Winfrey Show, the talk show hosted for twenty-five years by one of Chicago’s most famous living personalities.

Oprah Winfrey set doors

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Dawn of the Exclamation Points!

Scott McCloud, DESTROY!!!

When exclamation points were king! Art by Scott McCloud! From his giant-sized book DESTROY!!! Which was loosely adapted into a film called Man of Steel!

Our family vacation is coming up soon! Looking forward to another annual road trip! Hopefully Boston and the cities along the way are worth the gas money! In all this looks to be a busy summer! I spent part of tonight researching, but now I can’t concentrate!

My current excited state isn’t just about getting away from it all! I’ve spent the last hour thinking entirely in exclamations! This is not normally a problem for me! I blame another website! As a longtime comic book fan, I like keeping up on comics sales figures! A comics news site called The Beat provides monthly updates that can be either entertaining or dry, depending on the writer! For DC Comics’ April 2013 writeup, the drier writer decided to try something different! Every sentence was a shout at the heart of the world! Every comment was a drill sergeant’s command! Suddenly the stats and comparisons were all about action! And danger! And thrills! And now I can’t stop using them myself! I’ll get him for this!

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My “Mad Men” Season 6 Finale Predictions, 100% Accurate on Some Alternate Earth

Stan Rizzo, Jay Cutler, Mad Men

Cutler and Stan (Harry Hamlin and Jay R. Ferguson) rush to the nearest TV to see what’s in store for their characters.

So far Mad Men‘s sixth season has been my least favorite. Though I’ve read articulate complaints elsewhere online, I’m still having trouble nailing down the exact reasons for my diminished excitement. I even procrastinated the last few episodes for days after their respective airdates instead of rushing to catch them immediately for the sake of spoilers. I trust that Matthew Weiner and his team have surprises and shocks in store for us in the future, but I’d rather have them five episodes ago than idle impatiently till next year’s final season.

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Loner Dad’s Long, Proud, Awkward Day on Campus

college presentations

Consider, if you will, the following case of orientation disorientation.

This past Monday my son’s college held a special all-day program for incoming freshmen to undergo orientation, hear intros to their respective schools, meet their advisors, register for their first semester’s classes, experience an actual dorm food-court meal, and endure a self-guided campus walkabout to accomplish all the other activities at various buildings, only some of which are next door to each other. I tagged along to multitask the roles of chauffeur, navigator, sidekick, and personal ombudsman whenever he needed to question or vent about something. By and large, my parts were played with utmost competence.

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“Man of Steel”: a Farewell to Role Modeling

Henry Cavill, Superman, Man of SteelIn Part One of this two-part non-epic, I covered what I liked best about Man of Steel, the new Superman treatment from director Zack Snyder, producer Christopher Nolan, and screenwriter David S. Goyer. As I mentioned there, despite the team’s successes on numerous fronts, I thought the film had room for improvement.

Those examples require a courtesy spoiler alert because a few of my complaints happen toward the film’s back end and involve major plot points. If you plan to see it pristine and unspoiled for yourself, abandon the reading trail here, and I look forward to seeing you next time.

Onward, then, to what I liked least:

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“Man of Steel”: the Greatest Zack Snyder Film of All Time

Henry Cavill, Superman, Man of SteelAfter seeing Man of Steel today, that sweeping statement occurred to me and required two minutes’ worth of thought to confirm. It helps that I’ve seen all six of director Zack Snyder’s feature films to date, even the animated ones.

Of the other five: Dawn of the Dead was not bad for what it was — arguably his second-best, but not quite essential. 300 broke visual ground and set new standards for faithfulness in graphic-novel-to-movie adaptations, but makes me snicker in a few extraordinarily hammy spots. I’m glad someone finally adapted Watchmen so we could all say it’s been done and move on with our lives, but its brazen attempt to do for super-hero movies what the original miniseries did for super-hero comics didn’t have nearly the same intellectual impact or coherence. Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga’Hoole admirably demonstrated the visual techniques of 300 for an all-ages audience, but was incomprehensible unless you’d read the entire book series beforehand and could spot the dozens of pages’ worth of vital backstory that was excised for the big screen. (Thankfully my son was a fan and explained the crucial omissions.) And Sucker Punch was a skeevy, disjointed orphanage for outlandish sci-fi skirmishes that had apparently wandered away from the nonexistent movies that spawned them.

In comparison to the rest of the Snyder oeuvre, Man of Steel stands tall as his boldest achievement yet.

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Minimal Notes from Inside Our Spoiler-Free Bunker

Superman, Jason Todd, Dave Gibbons, DC Comics

Superman doesn’t like it when someone ruins his story. (Art by Dave Gibbons from 1985’s Superman Annual #11.)

If the lively debates on my social-media feeds are any indication, our family may well be the last people in America to see Man of Steel. I’m glad that’ll be rectified within the next eighteen hours. Unfortunately, in order for the film’s surprises to retain as much of their intended impact as possible, I’ve shifted myself into selective internet blindness this evening.

I’ve shunned Twitter’s outbreak of Man of Steel discussion groups. I’ve refused to read any reviews, whether they carry a courtesy spoiler alert or not. I’m even temporarily resisting the urge to read what I understand from several sources (while held at arm’s length, mind you) is a fascinating dissection of the movie by Superman: Birthright writer Mark Waid, a generally awesome comics creator who’s also one of the universe’s most devout Superman fans. Someday I’d love to read his thoughts, but it won’t be this moment.

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Mailing Stuff for Dummies

sample envelopeTonight I found a glaring hole in my son’s education that all the high school diplomas in the world couldn’t cover.

At his recent graduation, a friend asked him to hold her school ID during the ceremony because neither her dress nor the graduation robe had pockets. As her friend and a lifelong pants-wearer, he obliged. When we arrived home hours later, he realized she failed to ask for it back and he forgot to return it. (Even though they’re both graduated and free, I think she still needs it to pick up her 2012-2013 yearbook when they’ve finally printed circa spring 2015.) Since their schedules haven’t quite synched up, he offered to mail it to her. She messaged her address to him.

I handed him a blank envelope. He gave me a blank look.

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ABC Family Orders Spelling Bee Game Show, Leaves “Bunheads” Rotting in Limbo

Alfonso Ribeiro

Former child actor Alfonso Ribeiro knows about gamesmanship. (photo credit: RangerRick via photopin cc)

If it were up to me, I’d be spending my Monday nights the same way I did last summer: watching and recapping ABC Family’s Bunheads. When I took advantage of a free advance preview of the pilot last year, I was unprepared for a show about a California dance studio to become appointment viewing for an old man who’s never before had any interest in shows about dancing, teens, or dancing teens. (I’d never even followed an ABC Family series before, unless reruns of Whose Line Is It, Anyway? count.)

Full credit for my Bunheads fandom goes to an atypical cast, talented crew, shrewd choices in songs and routines, the constant flurry of unpredictable pop-culture riffs, and Gilmore Girls creator Amy Sherman-Palladino, who had to know that a ballet dramedy would a hard sell in today’s TV landscape. Alas, too few Nielsen commoners supported its first season to guarantee its renewal, but it beat enough late-night infomercials to merit extended reconsideration by the Powers That Be…who, four months after the season finale, have yet to decide whether it lives or dies.

This same management team had no compunction announcing their latest approved acquisition this week: a weekly spelling bee! Because certified TV scientists have proven in their shiny corporate labs that America loves its game shows, erstwhile Fresh Prince sidekick Alfonso Ribeiro will be hosting the upcoming Spell-Mageddon, in which contestants must refresh themselves on their old high-school vocabulary tests and enter the low-stakes world of competitive spelling, without benefit of Auto-Correct or even Auto-text. Truly this promises to be like an aerial death match without a net.

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E3 2013: Sony Unveils PlayStation 4 Console, Games, Lack of XBox One Fatal Flaws

Andrew House, Sony, PlayStation 4

Andrew House, President and CEO of Sony Computer Entertainment, shows off his company’s amazing new baby.

This week is the Electronic Entertainment Expo (or “E3” for effort conservation), an annual trade fair held in Los Angeles for those in the computer and gaming industries to meet, greet, demo, impress, and preview their upcoming products. Since my gaming bailiwick is fairly narrow, I was only interested in one of the scheduled press conferences: this evening’s 100-minute presentation from Sony Entertainment, at which they finally allowed the new PlayStation 4 console to see the light of day. The largest physical advantage of the PS4’s new, sleeker, less angular design is that now you can stack things on it. This sounds silly, but the PS3 is built like a car’s dashboard and defies all attempts to use it as a temporary shelf.

Though the press conference began twenty minutes late by my watch, some of the news and notes were well worth the wait. The best announcement of the entire conference, as far as our household is concerned, was Square Enix’s assertion (with preview clip!) that the long-procrastinated Kingdom Hearts III is now in development, after years of stalling and inferior handheld offshoots. I’m hoping this is released long before I reach the age of arthritis attacks. The clock is ticking and the calendar is flipping.

Also generating intense enthusiasm here was a trailer for Final Fantasy Versus XIII, which has likewise been in limbo for years. Following it in the lengthy pipeline are the probably spectacular Final Fantasy XV, plus a retooling of FFXIV, which means less to me because the original FFXIV is one of only two main FF installments I never bothered to try.

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McDonald’s Angus Line Shuffled Off to Crowded Burger Graveyard

The Navy Pier McDonald’s in Chicago is one of tens of thousands of locations expected not to mourn for the recently departed Angus line.

I was so underwhelmed by the McDonald’s foray into the world of Angus beef usage that I missed the announcement last month that their three quasi-fancy Angus sandwiches are being discontinued and replaced by an entire line of Quarter Pounder with Cheese spinoffs. I’m surprised their demise took this long.

Full disclosure: my first job was a twelve-year stint at McDonald’s, ten of those in management. My wife likewise did time there until she found the gumption to exit long before I did. We bear the company no ill will and we still eat there more frequently than the average ex-employee. That being said: large portions of our respective tenures were spent watching new products die.

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Fleeting Moments on Graduation Day

Eighteen years of life, thirteen years of schooling, and countless evenings of coaching, admonishing, encouraging, lecturing, applauding, tolerating, and loving all led up to a single day that required tremendous coordination and patience to align all the pieces just right for the series finale. Though today felt about three hundred hours long, its unique centerpiece will seem fleeting when viewed in retrospect years from now.

Today was my son’s high school Graduation Day.

Graduation Day, Class of 2013

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A Geek Guide to Small-Talk Parameter Adjustments

Evan Dorkin, Eltingville Club

Talking hobbies amongst friends is cool. Sharing them with Grandma is generous of you, but will frighten and confuse her. (Pictured: “Eltingville Club” art from Evan Dorkin’s Dork #6.)

Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover, I struggled to convey why I’ve recused myself from the tens of thousands of online symposia on the unsolved mystery of “What’s the difference between a geek and a nerd?” In defining my terms, I contrasted “geek” with “ordinary” in a brief, simplistic fashion:

From my own day-to-day standpoint, it’s as simple as this: if I talk about a given subject at either church, work, or family gatherings and receive nothing but blank stares or furrowed brows in return, those are the ordinary people. In those settings, I know that my version of “small talk” would wander too far past the geek boundary and I keep my mouth shut, except about the weather or whatever subjects they bring up first.

All of this sets aside the fact that I do embrace ordinary aspects about myself and my life as well, as longtime MCC readers should recognize by now, considering the number of past entries that were overtly not about geek-relevant topics, but were usually (hopefully?) informed in subtle ways by my interests and skill sets. (Tomorrow night’s entry will be one of those, in fact, 100% guaranteed.) Suffice it to say I’m not mocking anyone who’s 100% ordinary/0% geek — merely observing there are pronounced differences when those percentages fluctuate.

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Someone Please Resolve the “Geek”/”Nerd” Semantic Rivalry Before We Start Stabbing Each Other Over It

Chris Hardwick, The Nerdist Way

This book came close to changing my mind. So, so close.

The following entry is unapologetically subjective, will be unhelpful to most readers, and represents no definitive settlement of the matter for anyone except possibly myself, and I may even be wrong about that. Though I’m codifying my stance for the sake of never having to revisit this topic again if I can help it, I nonetheless reserve the privilege to change my mind without notice as time gallops forward, life experiences continue accumulating, and the aging process turns me either mellower or more crotchety than ever. I haven’t decided which road to take yet.

(Yes, that’s me front-loading the piece with an unwieldy headline and a nearly irrelevant disclaimer. If I were a film director, I clearly wouldn’t be the breed that insists Act 1, Scene 1 must be all about exploding cars. Between those and this bonus meta-parenthetical, I hereby declare the tone Properly Set.)

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A Maudlin Moment about Moribund Marquees and Missing Metropolis

State Theatre, Anderson, Indiana

Every empty marquee tells a story:

Once upon a time, there was a community gathering place where citizens and neighbors shared adventure, laughter, heartbreak, tension, jingoism, victory, sorrow, dreams, and amazement in a cozy, rarefied atmosphere bereft of stereo sound, digital imagery, comfortable upholstery, or ads teaching you baseline smartphone manners. Many a childhood memory was born there, many a relationship begun there, many a care in the world set aside for two hours inside a temporary escape hatch offering inspiration or respite.

Something something something, and then it closed forever and now it’s an eyesore, and did you hear about the acrimonious lawsuits raging behind closed doors as we speak, but hey, at least we have a Redbox kiosk on every other corner. And they all lived in isolation ever after.

The name of the town changes like a Mad Libs answer. Sometimes the part about the lawsuits is redacted because no one cares enough to sue anyone else over its demise. But the rest of the story is frequently the same.

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