James Bond vs. Not-Jason Bourne: Who Will Be America’s Next Jason Bourne?

June 8, 2012 By in Movies/Films/Flicks Tags: , , , , , , , , , , Leave a comment

Last weekend I finally watched Daniel Craig’s second James Bond film, Quantum of Solace after years of stalling due to unenthusiastic reviews. I’ve never been a big James Bond fan and, to be honest, have seen less than half the films — one Connery, a few Roger Moore, all the Brosnan ones except Goldeneye, and both Daniel Craig joints. So far, Casino Royale is the only one that I would rate above a B. That may be because Craig is less suave and sophisticated, more pragmatic, and definitely more bruised and bloodied. Not that I crave movie blood, but his Bond sweats and struggles more on the job than his pampered alternate-Earth predecessors did in my limited experience. Heroes spoiled rotten don’t appeal much to me. Batman may be rich, but you can tell he still has to put effort into what he does.

Perhaps it helps that Craig’s Bond seems less like traditional Bond and more like Jason Bourne — an unlikely hero who saves the day through determination, intense fist-fighting, handheld cameras, and smash-cuts into smash-cuts. Quantum of Solace seems brazen about its co-opting of the Bourne method. I didn’t mind at all until the action paused for character moments, few of which stacked up to the quiet moments and tense complications (exception: any and all uses of Dame Judi Dench). With half the movie sturdy and half of it wanting, Quantum didn’t quite find the same balance that director Paul Greengrass did in the second and third Bournes.

It remains to be seen, then, which of the upcoming spy films will rise above and bear the crown of the Bourne heir apparent. In this corner: Craig’s next Bond film, Skyfall:

This first teaser doesn’t offer nearly enough fluid fight samples for my taste, though that shadowy figure near the end is rumored to be special guest villain Javier Bardem. If anyone can grace us with a far more memorable presence than either of Craig’s last two opponents, Bardem is a safe bet.

In the other corner: The Bourne Legacy, starring Jeremy Renner as a spiritual doppelgänger of Matt Damon.

Stars a-plenty in that one. Edward Norton! Rachel Weisz! Joan Allen! Albert Finney! Rhys Ifans! David Strathairn! And is that Zelkjo Ivanek? (Well, I thought it was him.) And I probably missed even more. The Alley-Swoop-Cam shot at the end shows promise, though it’s a wee derivative of the window-jump shot from The Bourne Ultimatum.

Despite the months separating their release dates, I look forward to the cage match.

Chairs: the Silent, Comfy Killer (and other scandalous forms of filler)

June 8, 2012 By in Mundane Tags: , , , , , Leave a comment

My wife and I are still old-school enough that we still have the newspaper delivered twice a week. The Sunday edition of the Indianapolis Star has grocery coupons, occasionally meaty stories of local interest, and Bill Amend’s FoxTrot. The Thursday edition has a weekly section with a few pages focusing on our side of Indianapolis, a thorough list of indie films opening Friday in large cities that will never see the light of day in Indy, and the wicked insight of the current bearer of the proud Miss Manners mantle.

The Sunday paper is still the heaviest newspaper of the week, but once I’ve finished perusing the worthwhile parts, the bulk of it doesn’t take long to plow through. I don’t shop through the classifieds. I don’t like sports. Their home decorating tips are for nicer houses and neighborhoods than ours. Letters from readers are partisan overreactions of gut feeling without the burden of spending five minutes researching their topic first. And the Procter & Gamble coupons always offer chintzy discounts on the same dozen overpriced products our household never uses.

Most quickly skipped are the two or three pages buried in the back of the lead section that cover recent college science studies. Usually they’re finds and results along the lines of “Study Concludes Too Much Coffee Ruins Sleep” or “Scientists Declare Coffee Drinkers Live Longer” or “Purdue Team Says Coffee Causes Tusk Cancer in Narwhals” or “Statistics Prove Coffee Improves Navel Lint Production” or “Survey Shows Coffee Causes Unnecessary Medical Surveys”. Those add little to my life and consequently receive not even the courtesy of a five-second skimming.

I always figured such pieces were a subtle form of space-filler between back-section ads. However, I was surprised to run across an online article of the same variety. Apparently, employees who sit down a lot are more likely to be sedentary and die more quickly that average:

“All-cause mortality increased as BMI increased from normal weight to overweight to obese (5.0, 6.8, and 9.4 deaths/1000 person-years, respectively). The trend was similar for CV/metabolic disease mortality (1.8, 2.8, and 4.4 deaths/1000 person-years, respectively). After adjusting for BMI and other variables (light and hard exercise, education, sex, general health, smoking status, and cardiac disease), sedentary work was associated with higher all-cause mortality and cardiac/metabolic disease mortality compared with occupations with significant walking, significant walking or lifting, or heavy physical labor.”

The conclusion reached through the miracle of science: somehow, non-exercise doesn’t give us the exercise we need to live.

Even more stunning: the article egregiously fails to warn me that I’m killing myself slowly through the mere act of sitting here, reading that article, and then typing about it. I don’t even have to be at work to place myself at risk. (And YOU, the Viewers at Home: unless you’re jogging and reading this on your cell phone at the same time, I’m enabling your own descent into the abyss. Dreadful sorry about that.) Sure, my fingers will stay healthy, but mere digits cannot support an entire arterial network on their own. Alas, if only they could. Perhaps college science should find a way to make that happen. Until that transcendent day, the lives of millions of cubicle dwellers and Internet denizens hang in the balance.

Really, though, I’m not sure how this merited posting online. Most websites don’t have space to fill, do they? At least I have an excuse: I’m distracted by the need to prepare for our road trip this weekend and should be doing other things right now. I doubt the purveyors of that special report on can say the same. If they can, awesome. I look forward to swapping Superman Celebration memories with them in person. Perhaps we should make a point of jogging in place while we share.

America Salutes Time Traveler Who Killed Wrong Butterfly, Extended Ray Bradbury’s Life 50 Extra Years

June 6, 2012 By in Comics/Lit, Movies/Films/Flicks Tags: , , , , , Leave a comment

The Internet already paid all the best tributes to legendary fantasy/sci-fi author Ray Bradbury, who passed away June 5th at age 91. All I can add are my votes for favorite Bradbury moments:

Favorite movie adaptation: Something Wicked This Way Comes. Sinister carnival comes to small town; ringmaster tries to lure local kids into the exotic carny life…of eeeeevil. I first read about it in Muppet Magazine in a silly movie review section “written” by Statler and Waldorf. Even their crotchety descriptions made it sounds appealing. I caught it on cable TV as a preteen and loved every uneasy minute of it. Young, creepy Jonathan Pryce is all promises and temptations, lording his slithery nefariousness all over Jason Robards and a couple of meddling kids. To this day I’m still a little edgy around merry-go-rounds because of this flick.

Favorite audio adaptation: “A Sound of Thunder”, as part of “Bradbury 13”, a one-time BYU/NPR co-production of radio-drama performances of classic Bradbury shorts. I own six of them on audiocassette, including such suspenseful tales as “Kaleidoscope” (think Cast Away in the vacuum of space, minus hope) and “The Wind” (panicky man terrified by alleged killer weather), but “Thunder” was my favorite of the sextet for introducing me to the now-famous “butterfly effect” concept, and for fun foley-artist dinosaur sounds. Not too long ago the same story was adapted into a full-length made-for-cable movie that I’m afraid to watch because I don’t want to know how much they padded it.

Favorite short story: “The Pedestrian“. In a future where no one takes a walk for pleasure, a man decides to take a walk for pleasure and is branded an unfathomable lunatic. For anyone who’s ever engaged in a simple pastime that no one else gets (collecting Hummel figurines, paint-by-numbers, unicycling, solitaire with real playing cards, blogging), Bradbury knew your discomfort long before you did.

If only the rest of us could live so long, and with even a fraction of his imagination.

Comics I’m Not Reading: “Before Watchmen”, the Most-Debated Prequels Since “The Phantom Menace”

June 6, 2012 By in Comics/Lit Tags: , , , , , , Leave a comment

I’d like to think it’s possible to hold and express an opinion on this subject without hyperbolic vitriol. The situation, as I understand it, is superficially summarized as follows:

For a quarter of a century, DC has refrained from cranking out excess Watchmen merchandise because Paul Levitz, Action Publisher, allegedly nixed any and all such ideas. Levitz is now retired. Coincidentally, DC just so happens to be cranking out excess Watchmen merchandise, including but not limited to 35 issues’ worth of prequels labeled Before Watchmen, each written and drawn by talented people with whom DC has favorable business relationships. Co-creator Alan Moore has voiced his helpless displeasure publicly, as is de rigueur for him whenever anyone so much as flips through a used copy of one of his past projects, let alone threatens to adapt, reboot, or synthesize new works directly from one. Co-creator Dave Gibbons has given the project a boilerplate blessing, but is neither writing nor drawing any of the 35 issues.

Watchmen was a milestone publication, a seminal work in a medium that’s produced very few positively seminal works in the last ten years. It was a self-contained, self-sufficient work with a beginning, a middle, an end, and all the necessary parts to connect those three sections in a functional, entertaining, thought-provoking, sophisticated, even literary fashion. It neither promised nor required any serialized continuation, any additional volumes in a planned trilogy, or any superfluous world-building for fans who don’t know the meaning of the word “enough”. As with many non-comic books, you didn’t have to read dozens of other books first in order to understand it. In that quality alone it’s become retroactively unique in comparison to today’s average DC comic. Some would prefer the story be allowed to stand as-is, no extensions or rehashes needed.

(Even though last DC’s New 52 relaunch last year was ostensibly in the name of simplifying its shared universe, over half the 52 have now undergone, or are in the middle of, advertised crossover events with each other. The novelty of a self-contained story seems to displease the marketing department and is therefore being left to creator-owned comics that don’t have as much ancillary merchandise to move, or to mass-market novels that outsell comics by a wide margin. For value-added scorecard consternation, their old multiple-Earth concept, previously junked for a new generation when it was determined to be too confusing, is now being unearthed from its mothballed storage and trotted out for an even newer generation, to reuse and reset the stage for new forms of market complication and saturation. “Simple” and “unique” are watchwords no more, if in fact they every sincerely were.)

Others are upset on Alan Moore’s behalf and shun DC for perpetuating his creations without his permission. Setting aside the Charlton Heroes that were the initial, baseline impetus for each of the Watchmen characters (who, once fully realized, became clearly distinguished unto themselves), I’ve found it a curious reaction nonetheless. Of all Marvel’s and DC’s respective dozens of ongoing series of the moment, I’d be surprised if even 1% were written and drawn by any of the characters’ original creators. This has failed to bother the majority of the comics-buying public for decades, unless all those millions of former readers really were that upset when they realized Jack Kirby was never returning to Marvel. Watchmen had a good run when it came to retaining an artistic purity in lieu of being passed on to other hired hands. It kept that status much longer than other intellectual properties generally do.

(Frankly, I won’t be surprised if the Before Watchmen event is followed up with an ongoing Watchmen series that reinterprets the entire milieu as an new alternate Earth in the DC multiverse. I can imagine a DC corporate sect that would really, truly love to replace the iconicity of Watchmen with the interchangeability of any other super-hero comic. Somewhere out there is a fan base that would hand over fistfuls of dough to see pointless fistfights between Batman and Ozymandias, Dr. Manhattan and the Spectre, or the original Silk Spectre and Ma Hunkel. And elsewhere out there is a DC exec who’d love to give it to them. Well, maybe not that last match. I’m sure they’d substitute Wonder Woman and Silk Spectre, and probably add a kiddie pool filled with Jell-O Pudding.)

Still others have rolled their eyes simply at the overwhelming publicity that DC has whipped up to justify the occasion. We have tons of in-house ads, more merchandise coming down the pipeline than ever before, and even a TV commercial. Worst of all, I think, are the discomfiting interviews, such as those cited in Tuesday’s USA Today puff piece. Memorable quotes include:

“The strength of what comics are is building on other people’s legacies and enhancing them and making them even stronger properties in their own right…”

Read: “Sooner or later, everyone has to give up the toys they built and let someone else play with them.” This reminds me of when my cousins would come over to my house, play with my Legos when I wasn’t home, and wreck my hard-constructed houses and vehicles so they could use the pieces to make something much crappier. This situation did not somehow make Legos better, nor would it have helped if someone else had broken their crappy constructs and helped perpetuate a never-ending cycle of toy abuse.

“I’ve written Superman and Batman and the Fantastic Four and the Hulk. Where do I get off saying, ‘You can’t use my characters!’ when I made much of my career using other people’s characters?”

Read: “I’ve broken plenty of other people’s toys before. Why stop now?” If one draws the line here, then one is a hypocrite. No one wants to be called a hypocrite. That’s worse than being called a conservative. Therefore, helping Before Watchmen succeed is a moral imperative! Brilliant!

“Watchmen’s probably the most brilliant mainstream comic-book script ever written, but I think Dave gets way less credit and his voice doesn’t seem to matter in this argument…The artist is the guy whose vision puts that book in your hands. Without the artist, it’s just the script.”

This is similar to the argument used to devalue the contributions of Hollywood screenwriters. I recall an article in the fanzine Amazing Heroes from back in the day that stated Moore’s script for Watchmen #1 was over 100 pages. That’s a little large to be minimized as “just” a script. Gibbons drew it exceptionally well and obviously has a say, but it seems odd that his opinion should weigh more than Moore’s just because he’s avoided any signs of overt negativity about it. Just think, if he had shown the slightest reservation, we’d instead be seeing twice as many interviews with the original colorist and editor, who incidentally are participating in this. If all of them had both bowed out acrimoniously, I imagine DC would’ve hunted down anyone who did art corrections or handled color plates, until sooner or later Before Watchmen would receive a public thumbs-up and some street cred from any live creature they could legally proclaim as “one of the original creators”. As opposed to batty ol’ whatshisname across the pond who just did some light typing and thought the Question should have a different mask.

“While Watchmen has made a bunch of ‘best of’ lists in the mainstream, the book itself is mostly iconic only in comic-book circles…I don’t believe these characters mean much to the ‘normal’ people who recognize Spider-Man or Batman or the Hulk. But the 30-somethings who have left the hobby behind? They’ll be intrigued enough to possibly hit the local comic store.”

If they still have a comic shop in their area. And if today’s cover prices don’t induce sticker shock compared to Watchmen‘s original $1.50 per issue. And if no one tells them that their former hero Alan Moore (“Ohhh, yeah, the Swamp Thing and Miracleman guy! Dude, he was GREAT!”) had nothing to do with this.

“There are some people who are drawing a line in the sand saying, ‘I’m not going to buy any sort of Watchmen prequel, especially since Alan Moore is disapproving of it…But it will be very difficult for some of these hard-line purists to ignore a new Darwyn Cooke book on the shelf they don’t have. While they’re saying one thing, these books are going to be going home with people.”

I don’t hate Darwyn Cooke, but I’m not a hardcore fan, either. The New Frontier didn’t do much for me as a non-fan of DC’s Silver Age, and I found his take on Will Eisner’s The Spirit irritating in its reliance on PG profanities that the original stories never needed. Regardless of my minority opinion, if those prodigal thirtysomethings have been AWOL for that long, then they probably have no idea who he is and won’t care about his name on the covers.

In general, I’m not furious that Before Watchmen exists. I’m just not in a position to care for it.

The writers and artists involved each range from pretty talented to extremely talented, but none of them are on my ever-dwindling buy-on-sight mental list. I’m no longer the kind of reader who follows favorite characters regardless of whether they’re in the hands of geniuses or hacks. And despite whatever unanswered questions Watchmen might have held or inspired, none of them pique my curiosity. But for me, Watchmen is over and done.

Even more importantly, even if I wanted to succumb to the temptation of Lee Bermejo drawing a mean Rorschach, at this point in my life a 35-comic event is beyond my budget and interest level. I’m not exactly running out of comics to collect right now. My new-comics list this week is eight strong. Of those, two are Marvel, one is DC, and five are neither. That’s how my tastes are running these days. With one exception, I’m not reading any crossovers this year, indulging in any line-wide events, or actively acquiring any new encyclopedic knowledge about what passes for continuity in the Marvel or DC universes. I stopped following all the X-books and most Avengers titles years ago, and in recent months I’ve dropped many New 52 titles as a result of unwanted crossovers. I still have plenty of smaller, self-contained monthly works from Image and other publishers to keep me going (in addition to a scant handful of Big Two), to say nothing of the shameful backlog of unread books and graphic novels I keep amassing and slowly whittling down as free time permits. I’m not interested in cutting other titles or ignoring other purchases to make room for something as mammoth as Before Watchmen. Partial participation is no good, either — every issue will contain part of a serial that only makes sense if you buy into the whole shebang. Those pages will be wasted on me, as will whatever other sneaky connections the books will have between them to ensure their readers are overcome with the urge for completism. Such is the DC way.

It’s not like I’m renouncing Watchmen forever. My Absolute Watchmen oversized hardcover super-special edition remains on the shelf for the occasional revisit. If someone wants to play in that same playground, that’s up to them, but I’m not required by law to watch.

My “Mad Men” Season 5 Finale Predictions, 100% Accurate on Some Alternate Earth

June 4, 2012 By in TV/DVD Tags: , , , , , , , , , , 2 Comments

Mad Men has already thrown a plethora of unexpected twists and pivots at us this year, but has one more hour at its disposal to see if it can top itself even more outlandishly. One can only hope the season 5 finale, “The Phantom”, will join the ranks of “The Wheel” and “Shut the Door. Have a Seat” as another finale to end all finales.

I’m terrible at guessing what happens next in any given show. Like all other failed prognosticators, that never stops me from trying. I may look weird keeping a book by my side while I watch, for something to occupy my time during commercials or sex scenes, but rest assured I’m otherwise paying attention, keeping mental tabs as best I can with my aging memory, and harboring my own half-baked theories about what ought to happen next. Fortunately, whatever happens is usually much more stunning.

Momentary pause here for courtesy spoiler alert before I proceed. If you’re not caught up through the June 3rd episode “Commissions and Fees”, or if you just don’t care, your exit strategy should be executed right about now. Please allow me to have you escorted to safety by this authentic 1960s artifact, and I look forward to seeing you tomorrow.

The Ghost of DC Movies Past, Present, and Yet to Come.

And now, on with my false prophecies about “The Phantom”:

* With Mrs. Pryce left behind in surprise financial dire straits, Pete offers to buy her green Jaguar as a gesture of charity, albeit for a song. For some reason the car starts just fine for him. Pete spends his long drive back to the suburbs with all the windows down, the radio cranked up, and imagining himself a Real Man. Halfway home he’s pulled over for doing 80 in a 25 MPH zone. The Jaguar is impounded. Pete is not happy.

* The funeral is a somber yet extravagant affair. With Lane’s overseas colleagues all declining to attend and Mrs. Pryce unable to speak, Don steps to the podium and delivers a eulogy that was written by Megan in about six minutes on the back of a funeral program. It is the Greatest Eulogy of All Time. Pete fumes with envy.

* A suddenly lucid and desperate Roger proposes to six different women: the twin models who witnessed his heart attack, Peggy’s brash friend Joyce, Don’s receptionist Dawn, his ex-wife Mona, and li’l Sally. We have to wait until next season to find out which one said yes. Pete overhears Roger’s end of the phone conversation, then stomps away muttering like an angry child about how he wishes he could go out and remarry every two years.

* Two months into her new job, Peggy is flourishing as a creative force at Cutler, Gleason & Chaough. Shockingly, Ted Chaough has proven not to be a lech. She later attends a business mixer with one of CGC’s major clients, the life insurance company that employs Pete’s commuter buddy. She has a chance encounter with Pete’s one-time fling, Mrs. Commuter Buddy, who’s attending the party dutifully with her husband. Casual small talk escalates into a tearful confession. Peggy somehow puts two and two together from the scant clues, makes a beeline for her old offices, kicks Pete right in his Campbell Soup Cans, and exchanges strained pleasantries with Don on her way out. Pete cannot breathe for the rest of the day.

* Don rehires previously laid-off copywriter Danny Siegel (Danny Strong) to handle the Jaguar account for him while he himself, emboldened by the Dow deal, decides go after a bigger fish than Jaguar: the great and powerful Rolls Royce. Don is convinced that their Phantom series (we have episode title!) is Where It’s At. By episode’s end, Don can’t close the deal without Megan’s help, but she refuses because of auditions and ambitions and such. The chase proves to be just another Dulcinea that teaches us the real “phantom” is the fleeting nature of happiness or business success or absolute manhood or whatever. Pete’s only moment of joy in the episode occurs when he realizes Danny is the first adult male he’s ever met who’s punier than he is.

* Betty and Henry have a mild argument or something. No one cares.

* Ed “the Devil from Reaper” Baxter calls Don, tells him he has some nerve!, and awards him with Dow’s business. All of it. After a series of fake meetings and fake intense arguments, Roger formally announces Ken will be handling the account under extreme duress, but totally solo due to fictional client mandates. Pete’s blood boils.

* The bigwigs at Heinz announce they’re so in love with the work that Michael Ginsberg and Stan Rizzo have done for their baked bean ads, they’re moving all of Heinz’ other accounts to the firm, including Big Catsup. Pete finds an excuse to leave the meeting abruptly with his face red and hot steam whistling out his ears, even though this subplot has virtually nothing to do with him.

* Trudy puts on the frumpiest dress she owns and announces she’s pregnant again. She wonders if perhaps they’ll need to move into a larger house even farther away from Manhattan, possibly as far as western New Jersey. Pete responds by climbing to the top of a water tower, wielding the trusty rifle that he obtained years ago in exchange for a duplicate chip-‘n’-dip set, and begins firing indiscriminately at innocent passersby. He doesn’t hit a single live target, but shatters the window of a beauty shop, where the bullet destroys a Clearasil display. Pete’s father-in-law is not happy. After he runs out of ammo, Pete throws his emptied gun at Trudy (missing by a wide margin), slips off his perch and onto the ground. The authorities toss him into a paddy wagon and wave him off. Our last sight of Pete is him clawing at the windows and frothing at the mouth. Trudy is later consoled by her new neighbors, Troy and Abed.

* The firm name is changed to Draper Sterling Cooper Harris. Pete’s head explodes.

Queen’s Diamond Jubilee Indirectly Saluted with Viewing of “The King’s Speech”

June 3, 2012 By in Movies/Films/Flicks Tags: , , , , Leave a comment

My wife is a much greater fan of British royalty than I’ll ever be. She’s studied and retained much of their history and knows the order of succession to a fair magnitude. As far as my superficial interest is concerned, if they’re not frequently mentioned in entertainment headlines, they’re not in line for the throne. Whenever we see Oscar-nominated movies about British kings and queens, she explains their history and context anew every time with the patience of a saint. Of all the responsibilities and skills we’ve divided between the two of us in our blissful marriage, Knowledge of European History is firmly in her bailiwick, just as Slightly Advanced Math is in mine.

I knew nothing about Queen Elizabeth II’s Diamond Jubilee until I learned how it would interfere with this week’s release schedule for British comic shops. As usual, my shoddy post-school method of learning about history brings me new awareness of my surroundings from unexpected sources. I knew she’s been queen longer than I’ve been alive, but I had no idea her reign is about to enter its seventh smash decade.

Today we had company over for a few hours, with tentative plans to watch a movie. I thought to pop in something vaguely on-topic, but we don’t have The Queen. I went with the closest possible film on hand — The King’s Speech, the story of how her father Colin Firth learns about leadership and friendship from Captain Barbossa after Dumbledore passes away and Firth’s older brother Memento Guy abdicates the throne for the sake of true lust. Or something like that.

Elizabeth and her sister appear in just a few key scenes. From ages eight to thirteen, Elizabeth and her sister Margaret, who I’m told was also eventually well-known, are among those few subjects who demonstrate patience with their king, fully understand his impediment, and respond to him with love and encouragement anyway. This positive reinforcement is in direct contrast to the hundreds of other characters and extras, whose expressions of awkwardness and discomfort would fit right into a typical episode of The Office (either version). Having never been under the Queen’s rule, I’m not in a position to draw any parallels, whether genuine or ironic, between that portrayal and her reign to date. I tend to think the filmmakers were aiming for utmost respect.

As tributes to HRH go, I could’ve gone with much worse. I also have the entire Naked Gun trilogy on hand. Those cameos by her convincing, put-upon stand-in may not have sent the right message this weekend.

So, happy Diamond Jubilee, then!

Lemony Snicket Prequels to be Less Series, More Unfortunate, Similarly Eventful

June 3, 2012 By in Comics/Lit Tags: , , , , , , , Leave a comment

The thirteenth and final book in Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events, aptly entitled The End, ended exactly as he promised from the outset. The finale was as depressing and disappointing as Snicket repeatedly warned readers it would be. What we followers once idealistically shrugged off as his false modesty proved to be truth in dark advertising. I found it difficult (though not impossible) to complain about my crushed expectations when I knew deep down that the author had reserved the privilege to respond, “I told you so.”

Later this year, Snicket’s clever woe returns to the new-release section of our few remaining bookstores with the first in a four-book prequel series under the umbrella title All the Wrong Questions. The first installment, Who Could That Be at This Hour?, appears to star Snicket himself at age 12 and may or may not relate to us the secret history of his initiation into the V.F.D., which may or may not stand for “Vilified Federation of Downers”. Illustrations will be provided by Seth, a much-lauded graphic novelist who prefers to remain mononymous, a word which here means, “distinguished enough to require only a single name.”

Skeptical fans are encouraged to go read the entire first chapter, which is now officially available online. The reader can infer from the opening paragraph alone that, once again, future side effects of partaking in this experience may or may not include unhappiness, heartbreak, and complaints about so many unseemly tragedies.

Entertainment Weekly indicates the release date has been moved from the original December 2012 plan up to October 23rd, all the sooner for us to get it over with — which may be desirous, if this tantalizing sample is an accurate indicator of the surprises and double-takes in store. Lord willing, perhaps the Questions tetralogy won’t also be adapted into a Jim Carrey movie that ends up as neither a series nor an event.

Adventurous “Snarked!” Deftly Reboots Walrus, Carpenter Despite Objections from Bitter, Bedraggled Lewis Carroll

June 2, 2012 By in Comics/Lit Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , 1 Comment

Without mentioning either Wonderland or that pesky Alice, Roger Langridge’s Snarked! breathes new personality into peripheral characters from Lewis Carroll’s famous works, including but not limited to the two that have been most adapted to death. For once, the spotlight shines away from li’l blond whatshername and her complaints about nonsensical hallucinations.

Wilberforce J. Walrus is a schemer always on the prowl for free food and fortune. His old pal the Carpenter, now named Clyde McDunk in this post-Crisis continuity, is his partner in mischief because he doesn’t know any better. Imagine the mismatched duo of J. Wellington Wimpy and Lennie Small, if you will. The two hapless friends find themselves in over their heads when adventure comes a-calling in the form of the Red King’s young children, plucky Queen Scarlett and toddler Prince Rusty. The royal advisors are staging a coup, and Walrus and McDunk are the only ones who can help the royal kids find their lost father, who’s been spirited away to *gasp!* treacherous Snark Island.

Our recurring cast includes the Bellman from “The Hunting of the Snark” (now a ship’s captain missing some of his marbles), the annoying and unhelpful Cheshire Cat (worse than any given Watcher or Observer), and Our Heroes’ most relentless arch-nemesis the Gryphon, an intimidating mercenary employed by the bad guys but failing at every turn to recapture those meddling kids. Previous issues also refit the White Knight as a kindly puppeteer, the mad Tea Party attendees as pretty lousy pirates, and treacle as something worth eating.

Published under the BOOM! Studios kiddie imprint called kaBOOM, Snarked! is by no means watered down for preliterate wee ones. This frequently disadvantaged duo engage monsters and henchmen alike in the rollicking spirit of Floyd Gottfredson’s Mickey Mouse adventure strips, with the zeal of Carl Barks and the best rhyming narration since Sergio AragonĂ©s’ Groo the Wanderer. Roger Langridge already proved with his twelve issues of BOOM!’s erstwhile Muppet Show series that he can alternate between slapstick and arcane literary references with enviable ease, so I had no reservations giving this a try, even if some of the references are flying over my head uncaught. (I like how one ostensibly young reader put it in the lettercolumn to #7: “Every time I read Snarked!, I need to have a dictionary handy. Sadly, all I have is one for Scrabble players.”)

I appreciate that my local comic shop has gone above and beyond in ordering a copy of each new issue for me every month even though I’m not strictly a pull-list customer. #8 is new in stores this week and pits Our Heroes against the enormous Bandersnatch, whom you can be sure is more frumious than ever. Individual issues are available directly from the publisher’s site, including the issue-zero intro that’s only a buck. The first trade collection is available from Amazon now; volume 2 is scheduled for October. If you’re looking for an all-ages action yarn to share with your younger relatives, or to hoard all to yourself while you decode its Easter eggs, Snarked! fills the bill most indubitably.

CBS’ “Elementary” to Introduce Sherlock Holmes of Earth-2, Possibly Precipitate “Sherlock War” Crossover

May 31, 2012 By in TV/DVD Tags: , , , , , , , , 4 Comments

Despite the objections of BBC fans, this fall CBS plans to air their own Sherlock Holmes series, Elementary. Starring Jonny Lee Miller as Our Hero and Lucy Liu as mandatory progressive Dr. Watson, the show promises some or all of the following:

The last time I watched a detective show with a British counterpart, whose American version was antsy and not entirely stable, it was Robert Pastorelli in Cracker. Other than introducing the world to young Josh Hartnett’s unkempt hair, it didn’t go over well. I’m curious enough that I might tune in for the pilot. I’m a fan of unlikely heroes with too much nervous energy to spare, but I hope the rest of the cast is given more to do than simply standing around slack-jawed and watching him do all the overacting.

Shocking confession time: despite recommendations from many smart people, I have yet to watch a single episode of the BBC’s renowned Sherlock. My wife and I keep forgetting we have BBC America, and I keep forgetting that season 1 is on DVD. The only excerpt I’ve watched in full is this one:

Frankly, I’m sold. I wish I could say I’m making an Amazon one-click purchase right now, but I have a vacation in two months that needs funded first, and my pre-existing backlog of unwatched DVDs weighs upon me with some shame. Maybe I can rank it at the top of my Christmas list.

500 Festival Parade Second Encore: Smurfs in Surplus

May 31, 2012 By in Conventions & Events, Meta Tags: , , , , , , , , 1 Comment

I don’t understand why, but now that Houghmania is on the wane for the moment, I’m finding that, out of all the other Indy 500 Festival Parade photos out there, apparently shots of Mega Papa Smurf — even this many days after the fact — are inexplicably in higher demand than some celebrity nude pics. In many ways that’s a good thing.

More fodder, then, for those who believe love is blue and blue is love:

Alternate fuller shot of Papa Smurf rounding the corner from Washington Street onto Meridian. Street signs about loading and unloading zones are useless against him.

Papa Smurf so close you can see his seams, right before he destroys all who oppose him.

Beneath him, his merry oppressed Smurflings do his every bidding or risk his stompy wrath.

To a lesser extent, Smurfette and Clumsy were also in the parade, but refused to exit their mushroom love hovel and say hi. They had either a bad case of stage fright or a terrible secret to hide.

Skyscraper Could Make Lovely Starter Home for Young Trillionaire Couple

May 31, 2012 By in Indiana Tags: , , , , , , Leave a comment

At 48 stories and an external height of 830 feet at the pinnacle of its uppermost spire, Chase Tower is the tallest, most intimidating building in Indiana. Among WikiPedia’s rankings of tall buildings, it’s Indianapolis’ only entry in America’s Top 40. It’s one of the few memorable standouts in panoramic photographs of our not-exactly-sprawling downtown.

Chase Tower offers convenient connection to the ritzy Columbia Club, a unique view of Monument Circle, a neighbor in historic Christ Church Cathedral, quick access to a commendable comic shop just around the corner, and eight different Starbucks within healthy walking distance (two of those at short, arthritis-friendly shuffling distance). Right next to it is the best place to stand for any Hoosier who wants to pretend they’re in Manhattan.

According to the Indiana Business Journal, it’s also for sale:

[Chase Tower] was sold recently to Beacon Capital Partners LLC as part of a package of 14 office towers Beacon bought from Charter Hall Office REIT in Sydney, Australia, for $1.71 billion.

Beacon, which closed on the building earlier this year, is now marketing it for sale through the Chicago office of Jones Lang LaSalle and New York-based Eastdil Secured, a unit of Wells Fargo.

How cool would it be if you and millions of your closest online friends could each chip in $100 and make an offer? If you’re one of Justin Bieber’s 22,570,604 Twitter followers (as of the second I’m typing this), you and your fellow J-Bieb enthusiasts would only need to pony up $75.77 apiece to match the previous sale price for the entire 14-skyscraper package. If you can persuade the sellers to break up the set and part with just the Chase Tower, that shared stake becomes even more of a bargain.

Unfortunately I’m not sure if all 22,570,604 co-owners could fit inside simultaneously and turn it into 48 stories of sheer party town. A timeshare system might be in order. Heck, I’d be tempted to piggyback on the deal myself, in exchange for anytime line-jumping access to the Paradise Bakery on the Tower’s ground floor.

If $1.71 billion seems too steep, the same IBJ article also references a listing for the nearby Capital Center, a modest complex of two mini-skyscrapers (more like skywavers, really) each 17 and 22 stories tall, the shorter of which houses Fifth Third Bank’s central Indy offices. Imagine closing the deal on this and being able to tell your friends you’re a bank’s landlord. They’ll either high-five you and declare you King of Turning the Tables on The Man, or slap a red-letter “1%” on your chest after they finish tarring and feathering you.

If it helps sweeten the deal, the South Tower has a stellar coffee shop. It’s not even a Starbucks.

Sherman-Palladino’s “Bunheads” Does Ballet with Sharper Wit, Less Trauma Than “Black Swan”

May 29, 2012 By in TV/DVD Tags: , , , , , , , , , , Leave a comment

I don’t normally tune in to TV shows in which the women outnumber the men by a wide margin. I’ve seen multiple episodes of The Golden Girls and Designing Women only because they aired during my childhood, when I had no say in what shows our family watched. As far as more recent years go, let it be noted for the record that the gender margin on Buffy was by no means wide.

I never brake for ballet. I was once forced at too young an age to sit through a Dance Kaleidoscope performance of The Nutcracker that scarred me with boredom for decades. I’ve never seen Billy Elliott or The Red Shoes. I only endured Black Swan because my annual fanatical Oscar completism required it. Even ballet episodes of The Simpsons aren’t my cup of tea, except for any scene involving Lugash.

I’ve never even watched an ABC Family series, unless you count a few guilty-pleasure reruns of America’s Funniest Home Videos. I try (and fail) to justify that by citing the members of its writing staff who hailed from the great and powerful Mystery Science Theater 3000. I also secretly think Tom Bergeron is underrated, but you didn’t hear it from me.

And no, sadly, I never saw a complete episode of Gilmore Girls. Nothing about “women’s drama on the WB” sounded like a draw for me. Admittedly, occasional snippets and reviews I caught in later seasons gave me the impression that I might like it if I tried it, but by then it was too late.

Today Entertainment Weekly gave subscribers access to a sneak preview of the entire first episode of the upcoming ABC Family series Bunheads, a ballet drama created by Amy Sherman-Palladino, the creator and voice behind Gilmore Girls. The last time EW sent me a sneak-preview link, that particular free sample lasted all of four minutes before I rolled my eyes at the show in question, closed the browser window, and thanked them for thinking of me.

Given all of this, I had no reason to expect that Bunheads would beat the previous four-minute record. I rolled the dice and gave it a go anyway.

The first minute wasn’t encouraging– a kickline of Vegas showgirls doing their onstage frilly thing for the men, only to be pushed aside by the even less clothed real stars of their stage. The camera switches focus to two girls in the back row, exchanging catty remarks about why they don’t qualify for front row. From there the pace picks up as we move backstage and introduce a very special guest star: Alan Ruck, known to many as spineless sidekick Cameron from Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, but dearer to me as Captain Harriman, the schlub who helped Captain Kirk get dead in Star Trek: Generations.

Ruck’s presence as a stubborn, clueless suitor bought the pilot ten minutes of my time. Fair exchange, I figured. I’ve never seen him misused.

The next time I remembered to check the timecode, fifteen minutes had gone by. From there the scene abruptly changed, new characters entered and marked their positions, and the momentum wouldn’t stop. Next thing I knew, the full 45-minute episode had flown by and ended with a precipitous cliffhanger that left me wanting to know what happens next.

In my book, that’s unconscious high praise.

The premise, since it matters: Michelle (Tony nominee Sutton Foster, razor-sharp and Sorkin-film-ready) is a trained dancer turned hopeless Vegas eye candy who impulse-marries Captain Harriman in a rock-bottom moment of weakness and agrees to move into his mammoth abode in a faraway, cozy, everybody-knows-your-name small town called Paradise, a name well chosen from the approved list of ironic names for TV small towns. Everyone except Harriman hates her, especially his ex-girlfriend Truly (Friday Night Lights‘ Stacey Oristano, who steals every scene with pitiful comedy tears), and doubly especially Harriman’s mom (Kelly Bishop, also formerly of Gilmore Girls, playing far from caricature), who is stern and offended at the tawdry acquisition of a surprise daughter-in-law. She lives in Harriman’s home, just as you’d expect from a sitcom aiming for wacky hijinks. Michelle’s in luck, though — hubby’s mansion also houses mother-in-law’s ballet school.

You can imagine the culture clashes. You can imagine the possibilities for the two adversaries bonding over ballet despite having little else in common. You can imagine there are at least four young students with singular character traits who are only a pirouette away from being labeled the Bad News Bears of ballet.

What holds it together and makes it zing are Sherman-Palladino’s ear for dialogue that’s not cribbed from other TV shows; the immediate, surprising depth of the awkward quote-unquote “relationship” between newlyweds Michelle (who’s well aware that her actions don’t speak well of her) and Captain Harriman (who we learn isn’t as dense about their situation as he seems); and a few moments of gravity struck in just the right places that lift this pilot several planes above the level of chick-flick flight-of-fancy. I sincerely apologize for expecting no more than that going into it.

The premiere airs Monday, June 11th, on ABC Family at 9 p.m. EDT. The official site has plenty of preview material and freebies for the curious. I’ve clicked on none of them because I’m giving serious consideration to catching episode two the following week and would prefer to avoid spoilers. Also, if future episodes aim more for the ABC Family young-girl audience and not so much on a level for me, the complete opposite of their target demographic, then I’d prefer not to find out yet.

(I’m thankful the show isn’t aiming for a prurient tone — setting aside that fleeting opening scene — so I can explain to my wife why I think the show might be worthwhile without looking like a dirty old man. It also helps my case that I find her 200% more attractive than any ballet dancer. Yes, really. Don’t give me that look.)

Enclosed below is a two-minute fraction of the episode I watched of The Show I Couldn’t Possibly Like. Enjoy! I’ll just be over here remembering what owning a Man Card once felt like.

(If I could make just one suggestion: is it too late to change the title to, say, Dances in Paradise? Bunheads sounds like an Adult Swim show about animated foul-mouthed pastries.)

My Geek Demerits #2: No Smartphone

May 28, 2012 By in Mundane Tags: , , , , Leave a comment

My wife and I share a single cell phone between the two of us. It’s a dinky LG model 300G prepaid phone with no Internet access. Its special features include a very limited wallpaper selection, a paltry library of super-MIDI ringtones, and the ability to play Sudoku. Its texting capabilities are more primitive than a Speak-&-Spell. I have no interest in writing to someone on a device that requires four keypunches to generate a single “s”.

We didn’t even buy it for ourselves. It was an anniversary gift from a well-meaning relative. Neither of us is a fan of telephones. We keep it on hand for emergencies or rare moments of convenience. I let her carry it most of the time, out of a combination of chivalry and disdain for the thing. Thankfully the minutes roll over infinitely as long as I keep purchasing additional service days. So far through disuse we’ve stockpiled over 2,800 minutes. I could theoretically call Australia and stay on the line from midnight to midnight with no concern for cost.

We know we’re an extremist minority among our under-60 peers. Today’s average American considers their cell phone an essential part of everyday life that combines the usefulness of a few different appliances with several hundred useless distractions. Much discussion has already been held in various venues about smartphones displacing landlines from many homes. I’m sure the same holds true of PCs and laptops for those casual typists who don’t need word processing, spreadsheet capabilities, or CD/DVD-ROM drives.

We realize we could afford upgrading to a smartphone if we felt the urge, but forgo it for several reasons:

* No interest in haggling over pricing, contracts, or bandwidth usage. As long as we continue to underuse, our prepaid Fisher Price toy costs me $15 per month to keep active. If we decide to drop it at a moment’s notice, the financial damage would be negligible. If someone has invented a smartphone contract that’s month-to-month for the same approximate price with unlimited bandwidth, I could see an argument for upgrading. I’d prefer to avoid a long-term commitment to a plan that charges me dozens of extra dollars just because I exceeded my monthly bandwidth allotment after five rounds of Words with Friends.

* Itsy-bitsy keys. I have sausages for fingers. I need a manly keyboard for my manly typing. Even some laptops are uncooperative. I suspect a stylus would be easy to lose and would be an insufficient, frustrating substitute for my reflexive hunt-‘n’-peck keyboard method. I could live with extra typos if I had to, but I would pretty much die without my precious capitalization and punctuation.

* QR code-scanning holds no temptation for us. Oh, no, we’re missing out on extra advertising! Curse the fates!

* Our current appliances remain fully functional. My wife is very happy with her camera. Mine could be better, but it’s not nearly obsolete enough for me to be in the market for a replacement. Our PC serves all our Internet needs with the added advantage of a screen larger than an index card, all the better for viewing movie trailers and extended, heated Comments-section debates. We’re still old-fashioned enough to wear wristwatches, so our timekeeping needs are covered. Our cheap landline still keeps ticking, too, in case we need to dial 911 without worrying whether or not we remembered to charge the phone battery.

* I plan ahead without need for GPS. When we travel, I have all our directions prepared in advance. In the event of a wrong turn or bad directions, I also bring maps in case I need to navigate the old-fashioned way, the way our ancestors managed back in the dark, primeval twentieth century. So far we haven’t failed to return home yet.

* We’re discouraged by the behavior we’ve seen in other smartphone users. We realize millions of sane, collected users exist and conduct themselves just fine. Just the same, we’d rather not risk turning into one of today’s highly visible Stepford Callers. To wit:

— Eye contact no more. As a natural introvert, I already suck at making eye contact, even with people who want me to look at them. If I start carrying around something glowing and flashy to placate me like an audiovisual pacifier, I’ll never know anyone else’s eye color ever again, let alone acknowledge that they’re worth my personal, undivided attention. (Reminder to self: wife’s eyes are brown. Probably. Should double-check that.)

— “Ladies first” is more awkward than ever. When it’s time for crowd egress through a given doorway, it’s hard to be chivalrous when a lady’s mind is in a faraway place and unaware of her surroundings. My recently instated rule for elevator dismissal is, if she’s being hypnotized by her phone, she no longer counts as a “lady” for purposes of determining order of disembarkation. I’ll excuse myself first and let the doors shut on her. Far be it from me to be rude and interrupt her very important reading. I’m sure all those Facebook-shared unfunny Photoshop gags aren’t gonna Like themselves.

— Theaters as Internet cafes, even during the movie. Setting aside the massive distraction and rudeness it presents to the rest of the audience that was respectful enough to put away their toys, I fail to understand why anyone would focus on the tiny handheld screen they carry with them 24/7 while ignoring the large screen they paid an exorbitant fee to watch just this once. If you’re expecting an emergency, a vital communication, or a chat you just can’t miss because that one friend is so totally awesome to hear from, perhaps that two hours of your time would be better spent isolated at home, waiting for the DVD release and leaving the moviegoing to the rest of us stalwart, considerate lot.

— Apps are better than family. I will never forget the time I walked into a nephew’s birthday party and saw most of the adult “partygoers” sitting in a row in the living room, all silently engaged with their phones while the birthday boy spent quality time with the only loved ones not ignoring him — i.e., a few other tykes too small to own their own phones. Just imagine a future after someone invents Baby Einstein smartphones for all ages. With such scientific progress at hand, every family gathering could possess the warmth and charm of a deathly silent study-hall period.

I realize the entry qualifies more as “human demerits” in today’s society than mere geek demerits, but my lone moment of weakness in this area is the twinge of jealousy I feel whenever comic book conventions tout their schedule apps, QR codes for exclusive materials, and other handy on-site networking tools that offer no help for attendees like us who leave their ‘Net access at home. We can see merit in that, especially when it comes to last-minute event cancellations or celeb-sighting flashmobs.

All things considered, we’d still rather do without. Despite what Madison Avenue tells us, we firmly believe we don’t have to have everything. For the sake of some semblance of integrity, I accept my demerit and will continue to appreciate what meager service we’ve gotten out of our li’l plastic push-button knick-knack, even if it can’t access Angry Birds from a single corner of the continental U.S.

Franchitti Wins 3rd Indy 500, Gives Shout-Out to Katniss Everdeen

May 27, 2012 By in Indiana, Mundane Tags: , , , Leave a comment

The Indianapolis Star has released the following preview image of the cover for Monday’s edition, a tribute to Dario Franchitti, winner of today’s 96th running of the Indianapolis 500. Franchitti accepted the customary Winner’s Circle bottle of milk, donned the standard winner’s wreath, and greeted the cameras with a three-finger salute like a proud Hunger Games Tribute.

Share photos on twitter with Twitpic

When he escaped the initial skirmish at the Cornucopia carrying only a set of car keys, the other Tributes laughed at him. LAUGHED.

Cartoon Network Celebrates Memorial Day with Preview of “Annoying Orange”

May 27, 2012 By in TV/DVD Tags: , , , Leave a comment

In honor of all those foodstuffs who died in the line of kitchen conversation, Cartoon Network will be airing a sneak preview of their upcoming, reverent TV adaptation of the YouTube Golden Age classic Annoying Orange on Monday, May 28th, at 8:30 EDT. TV scientists await with instruments at hand to measure the effects of a mere fifteen-minute exposure on the health and stability of unsuspecting Nielsen families.

The official teaser:

I’m out of the loop on 85% of all YouTube phenomena, but I first caught sight of this citric sociopath in his mainstream breakout role alongside other notorious YouTube mascots in a Sprint/Regal Cinemas ad, warning the cell-phone fetishists in the audience to power down. He was hard to ignore as his distinct voice arose from the ruckus and stabbed me right in the ear. Thankfully my son was on hand to explain the concept to me without rolling his eyes too much.

I was surprised to see this pop up on the Memorial Day schedule with little or no fanfare from my immediate social circles. Clearly the world must be warned.

500 Festival Parade Encore: the Hough/Menounos Reunion, Take Two

May 27, 2012 By in Conventions & Events, Meta Tags: , , , , , , 2 Comments

Since I don’t watch reality shows anymore, I’d never heard of Dancing with the Stars‘ Derek Hough before he appeared in the celebrity lineup of this year’s Indy 500 Festival Parade. Based on response to my previous entry, I’m beginning to realize I’m alone in my ignorance. I appreciate being schooled on this, and truly have much to learn about The Hough.

As a thank-you and a gracious acknowledgment to his legion of fans, please enjoy this bonus parade photo of him, which includes a much better view of fellow passenger and Extra correspondent Maria Menounos.

Derek Hough and Maria Menounos!

WikiPedia tells me they were once partners on DWTS. If we’d known this were a highly anticipated reunion of sorts, my wife and I would’ve tried much harder and snapped a dozen more shots. I regret this is the last of our Hough/Menounos photo material, though I’m tempted to find ways to insert gratuitous mentions of him into future entries to prolong the magic.

Indy 500 Festival Parade 2012 Photo Gallery

May 26, 2012 By in Conventions & Events, Indiana Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , 8 Comments

My wife and I aren’t sports fans, but in 2011 we decided to try the Indianapolis 500 Festival Parade for our first time together. Each year on the Saturday before the world-famous Indy 500, our city holds a parade downtown with corporate-character floats, scintillating displays, marching bands, celebrities of varying levels of fame, all 33 qualifying Indy 500 drivers, members of the family that owns and/or operates the race, and bellicose street preachers.

Last year’s experience was such a fun date that we agreed an encore was in order. Ninety-degree weather was far from comfy, but we persevered. The following is a fraction of the pics we snapped.

The parade’s Grand Marshal: Australia’s own Olivia Newton-John! She was too far away to take questions and recriminations about Xanadu.

Co-star of "Grease" and "Twist of Fate"

’80s sensation Rick Springfield! The trailer speakers blared “Jessie’s Girl”, the only song of his that our local radio stations remember. As always, they sadden me.

Rick Springfield!

’80s semi-sensation Eddie Money reprises one of his classic hits, “Two Tickets to Parade”. With him is One Tree Hill‘s Jana Kramer, though for some reason all promotional materials avoided mentioning that show in favor of her plans to release her first country music album later this year. All kinds of odd choices in that sentence.

Eddie Money!

Mitch Daniels, governor of Indiana and certified Wild One.

Mitch Daniels, Wild One

TV’s Guy Fieri, of Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives. It was thanks to his recommendation several years ago that we had the pleasure of trying West Virginia’s Hillbilly Hot Dogs, and we’ll never, ever forget the experience.

TV foodie passes by a Jimmy John's without stopping.

Gladys Knight, well-known Pip-wrangler and midnight train passenger.

Still hearing it through the grapevine after all these years.

Florence Henderson is one of two celebrity staples guaranteed to appear at every Indy 500. The other, Jim Nabors, has bowed out this year. I wish him speedy recovery from whatever ruined a good run for him.

TV's Florence Henderson!

Derek Hough from Dancing with Stars and Maria Menounos from Extra. When their car moved forward to Monument Circle, they got out and had one of their walk-along security men snap their pic together in front of the Soldiers and Sailors Monument. Tourism isn’t just for us little people.

Nobody tell them I don't watch either show.

Captain Keith Colburn from TV’s Deadliest Catch. Alongside him but off-camera is a guy from A&E’s Storage Wars. Missed him by that much.

Deadliest Catch, Friendliest Waver

Miss Piggy, strung along by her obedient Kermitlings.

Dread the power of her giant-sized karate-chop!

Papa Smurf, living large after the success of his feature film debut, striding around atop forced Smurf labor.

Words of wisdom, boots of DEATH.

The Cat in the Hat and his goldfish arch-nemesis declare a temporary truce for the occasion.

Now containing 0% Mike Myers.

The Confucius Institute sponsored this golden dragon float as our new front line of defense against Godzilla.

The golden dragon says, "RAAAAAR."

Giant monster bookworm says read or be squashed. Look for him in his upcoming Syfy Original Movie, Giant Bookworm vs. Golden Dragon.

Giant Bookworm!

The Fred Hill Briefcase Drill Team. Even in those classy suits, they looked a lot less dehydrated and suffering than some of the high school musicians in the parade.

White Light, White Collars

THE Mario Andretti. I haven’t watched or listened to an entire Indy 500 race since college, but even I know and respect that name.

Mario Andretti!

Indy driver Takuma Sato. He finished 33rd out of 33 cars in 2011, but his was one of the two best driver photos we took.

Just wait till 2012!

Marco Andretti, youngest racer in America’s favorite racing family. Take THAT, Speed Racer and Racer-X.

Most Photogenic of Show

Special bonus for longtime readers: I’m please to report at least three food trucks were out and about, making the most of the weekend.

The Edwards Drive-In Dashboard Diner wins Best Truck Art.

The Edwards Drive-In Dashboard Diner.

The Chuck Wagon Deli wins Best Truck I Haven’t Tried Yet. This is the first time I’ve seen them downtown. I would’ve given them a shot if we hadn’t had such a decent breakfast this morning.

The Chuck Wagon Deli.

Der Pretzel Wagen wins Best Sugary Treat. Their cinnamon sugar pretzel was a delightful relief after the parade ended and I needed extra energy for the walk back to the car.

Der Pretzel Wagen.

When most people think “Indiana parade”, I imagine this is what comes to mind first: racecars and farmers. Just add a large basketball and a guy taking a nap, and it would be a true salute to Hoosier stereotypes.

Three Little Pigs.

I trust one or more of the other twenty-one images help balance the scales, so let us never speak of this throwback again.

For wallpaper fans, large-scale versions of these pics are on display in my PhotoBucket album. We have plenty more photos not uploaded, if the public demands outtakes of the Dennis the Menace float, a traditional Chinese dragon, non-character floats sponsored by Big Energy, Indy 500 Princesses, obscured 500 drivers, Indianapolis Mayor Greg Ballard’s wife’s hat, a stagecoach, the Hulman family, sweltering marching bands, or clowns. I was afraid to photograph any street preachers, so I can’t help you there.

Easily Distracted New Blogger Takes Four Weeks to Realize “About” Page Still Blank

May 25, 2012 By in Meta Tags: , , Leave a comment

[Sometimes it’s the little details that evade me.

The following “About” intro has now been inserted into the proper section of my li’l Internet nook here for future Googlers to peruse and evaluate.]

* * * * *

In the physical world my name is Randy Golden. As far as the Internet is concerned, this name belongs to another Randy Golden who’s been writing and publishing for several years in the name of Georgia tourism. I sign here as “R. A. Golden” out of deference to whoever he is, and as a nod to the small R. A. bandwagon crafted by my predecessors R. A. Lafferty, R. A. Salvatore, and R. A. Jones.

I’m a full-time customer service rep, part-time unpaid Internet participant. I’ve been a steady, sometimes verbose content provider to Nightly.net since 2000. I was on staff from 2001 to 2010, and was the most prolific contributor to their now-moribund Front Page news section. My previous, sporadic blog remains open for perusing if you’re into historical reference. I promise the site-specific in-jokes are minimal.

My amazing wife and I have been married for seven years, but have known each other for twenty-four. Our spare bedroom contains our combined bookshelves and the numerous longboxes that house my 34-year-old, yellowing comic book collection. She, in turn, has memorized the complete script to Superman: the Movie; the titles of all 178 episodes of Star Trek: the Next Generation; and the entire Book of James. One of the many reasons I love her thiiiiis much is because she knows which of those three will be most useful inna final analysis.

My son is in high school and maintains a strict line in the sand between his half of the Internet and mine. Our dog Lucky appears to be a Jack Russell terrier/chihuahua mix. I spend much time every day writing and speaking his dialogue for him as if he were a furry little ventriloquist’s dummy.

The roles of Christian, husband, father, and geek should be a no-brainer to prioritize. I do what I can with what I’ve been given, but some facets lend themselves more comfortably to writing than others.

I set up this blog three weeks before my 40th birthday as a means of charting the effects of the aging process and this fallen world’s degrading standards on my impressions of, reactions against, and general experiences with various works of art, commerce, wonder, majesty, and shamelessness. It’s my way of keeping the writing part of my brain alive and active, rather than let it atrophy and die. Until and unless I can discern what I’m meant to be doing with it, here I am.

I’m prone to lurking on Twitter as @RandallGolden because naturally someone else was first to register my name, and they wasted it on a single 2010 tweet. Here or there, I welcome input, questions, ideas, and simple pats on the head.

Views expressed herein do not necessarily reflect those of any other being, corporation, hivemind, or party line.

“Hunger Games” Sequel Renamed to Avoid Sounding Like Manly Gun-Battle Flick

May 24, 2012 By in Movies/Films/Flicks Tags: , , , , , , 2 Comments

Crowds who flood to theatres next year for the follow-up to this year’s second-largest event movie should note the reworked title that will take up twice as much marquee space. Lionsgate announced today the rechristening of the largest event film of 2013 as The Hunger Games: Catching Fire, as a kindness to those of us who keep their DVDs alphabetized and still struggle over whether to file The Dark Knight under ‘D’ or ‘B’.

No word yet about whether this change was strictly the fault of the marketing department, or if any input was welcomed from incoming director Francis Lawrence (I am Legend). Fans fervently hope the title format is the only element of the series to be even remotely inspired by Twilight.

Ten other new titles may or may not have been under consideration:

Katniss: the Hunger Games, Part 2
The Even Hungrier Games
Hunger Games 2: Hunger Harder
Hunger-Catching Firegames
Katniss Everdeen and the District of Secrets
HG2: Tributes United
The Hunger Games, Episode 2: Catching of the Fire
Peeta: the Hunger Games, Part 2
Panem Has Always Been at War with Eastasia
Hunger Games II with Last-Minute Slapdash 3D Conversion

Also worth noting is the best of the rejected poster taglines:

“No more games. The hunger just got REAL.”

Comics I’m Not Reading: “Avengers vs. X-Men”

May 24, 2012 By in Comics/Lit Tags: , , , , , , , Leave a comment

I recall a time from the 1980s when it was joked that too many chance encounters between Marvel heroes proceeded in identical fashion. Heroes meet; heroes fight and fight and fight; heroes pause to recuperate and compare notes; heroes team up against the real villain. I’d wager this was the premise of at least 200 of the 250 combined issues of Marvel Two-in-One and the original Marvel Team-Up.

Sure, fans loved debating the old “Who’s stronger?” arguments. Having two heroes meet and fight was a great way for writers to present their position, however skewed the answer would be, depending on whose series was hosting the showdown. After decades of Hulk/Thing and Hulk/Thor cage matches, we still don’t have an ultimate, decisive victor for either comparison, but fans love ’em anyway. They’re like literary sports. Since the teams are different each year, there’s every chance that the game’s outcome will be different than their previous face-off.

I can understand how younger fans might hop aboard the Avengers vs. X-Men company-wide crossover train. Not since Marvel vs. DC/DC vs. Marvel have we seen so many good guys pummeling each other senseless for no-stakes us-vs.-them excitement. That was fifteen years ago, though. Times, heroes, secret identities, continuities, pasts, and artistic preferences have changed. Just because it’s been done before doesn’t mean it deserves to be written off as a retread.

Odds are a small portion of the audience may also have changed. It stands to reason that somewhere out there are a couple of newer fans who missed out on that event and want some hero-boxing to call their own. They wouldn’t be opposed to something more recent, something composed by today’s well-regarded talents, and something a little more imaginative than their local HeroClix tournaments.

Here’s my issue, simply put: I have no vested interest in a large-scale skirmish that is the moral equivalent of policemen versus firefighters. When it comes to teams whose purposes and goals frequently intersect, I’m not interested in knowing which brotherhood is stronger, faster, better, or more awesome. After decades of coexistence, successful team-ups, and countless tragedies in which they’ve mourned each other’s losses together as one big Marvel family, you’d think at least one hero among them would have the common sense to raise a hand, suggest there might be a better way, and prevent a few dozen tie-in issues from taking place.

(I’m generously assuming, of course, that the entire conflict isn’t predicated on a simple, stupid misunderstanding along the lines of every episode of Three’s Company. As every bad writer knows, such misunderstandings are an unstoppable force of nature that no amount of effective communication skills could possibly hope to resolve. Can’t be done, don’t try, and don’t bother blurting out the plain truth, because making things even more awkward and excruciating is always the nobler way to go.)

(While I’m thinking parenthetically: this setup has given me one horrid mental image I can’t shake. Imagine if a bevy of surviving 9/11 responders were conscripted into the Hunger Games. Whee?)

As it is, I’m already inundated with all the us-vs.-them stories I can handle. They’re called “the news”. I can read real-life tales every day of good people in heated disputes with other good people over what “good” should look like. Most of the combatants wouldn’t consider themselves evil, but they’re fairly certain the other side is. At the very least, the other side’s sheep are the unwitting, helpless pawns of Big Evil. I have no doubt this is true in select cases, but good luck persuading both sides to agree on which cases. I don’t enjoy watching, nor do I seek out allegories of same, intentional or otherwise.

I firmly believe the writers and artists involved in this project are talented folks. I’ve bought works by most of them, and hope to buy more in the future. In this case, I don’t care who’s responsible or what the premise is. They lost me at the title, and kept me fenced out when the Big Picture was revealed as a widespread crossover. Ten times the story I’d prefer not to read is still a story I’d prefer not to read.

Even allowing that AvX might be intended as nothing more than mindless, literary sports, it’s worth noting that I generally don’t like sports, either. Gave up my man card years ago over that.

Worst thing about all this: when it’s over at long last and the rubble has settled, I bet we still won’t know which team is stronger.