Change of scenery?

I am so damn nervous right now. The last few days I have casually been putting around craigslist looking for a new place. The reason? I am sick to death of living in this dump of a house. Having to share a bathroom, enduring cackling hyena woman, the guy down the hall who smells like he hasn't showered since 1978, no heat to speak of...it's all just a little too much. But hopefully that's all about to change.

So I find what looks to be a pretty nice place in Salem. I really love Beverly and wasn't planning on moving to Salem, but this place is in a good location, includes all the utilities, and is a decent price. After checking out another apartment on the other side of Salem this morning, I decided to walk over and check out the street this place is on. Turns out it is right across the street from the fucking House of Seven Gables! I am all but decided that I'm taking this apartment; though a paltry two hundred years separate us, I could be neighbors with Nathaniel Hawthorne!

I came home straight away to email the landlady back; I would have sprinted over the Essex Bridge if the sidewalks weren't covered with ice and slush. I am so anxious about hearing back from this lady. My hands haven't stopped shaking, my stomach is in knots, and I am sick with worry that she won't get back to me or that I'll somehow lose out on this apartment. I really wish she had left her phone number in the ad. Wish me luck...

Making like Kevin McCallister

I am not having a good run when it comes to the holidays. After not making a flight to Minnesota today, I'm spending Christmas Eve in my room with only Al K. Hall for company. And he's not very good at cheering me up. Thanksgiving was a disaster; I got completely soused, lost my keys, gashed my face open, and spent the whole night outside in the freezing rain. And last year I spent my Christmas Eve with society's best and brightest in the wonderful environs of the Athens-Clarke County jail. With that said I've got a few quick shout-outs for this Christmas:

• The Denver blizzard for doing such a bang-up job of turning a normally hectic traveling season into an absolute clusterfuck and creating an endless backlog of missed flights and stranded passengers.
• The bartender at the airport Hilton, where I spent much of last night, for keeping the Sam Adams' Winter Lagers coming.
• Boston's Logan airport. If I ever again must spend a miserable, sleepless night on a cold tile floor waiting for an early-morning flight I hope it's here.
• The woman directly in front of me on the standby list for the first flight to Atlanta for jettisoning her kids and preventing me from claiming the last remaining seat on the airplane.
• My dumbass for listing on the connecting flight to Atlanta when I really meant to go to Cincy.
• Jesus.

Merry Christmas everyone.

Hot actress power rankings

STEP INTO MY TRAILER MS. _
Just a quick explanation here. I like lists and ranking systems. I hate them for the waste of time that they are, but I always seem to get sucked into the VH1 'Top 100 _' shows. I know the American Film Institute's Top 100 films of the 20th century by heart. And come football season I'm always eager to see how the BCS and NFL power rankings are gonna shape up week to week. I also love gorgeous, talented actresses. Ever since my first Hollywood crushes Christina Ricci (Addams Family) and Kirsten Dunst (Interview with the Vampire) I have always had certain actresses that I have found terribly fetching and whose work I like to follow. So that's basically the germ of this little project; daydreaming about when I become a big-time Hollywood director and the lovely ladies that I would love to work with and/or be romantically involved with. Enjoy, and if you think me pathetic, please remember that I haven't had a date in about a year.

*The parentheticals are career highlights that are personal favorites of mine. I also put up the original list that I referred to when putting together this one. It's in February 2006.

Others receiving votes: Jennifer Connelly, Ziyi Zhang, Elizabeth Banks

15) Naomi Watts (King Kong) [NR]

14) Uma Thurman (Kill Bill) [-6]

13) Kate Beckinsale (Underworld) [-8]

12) Selma Hayek (Desperado) [NR]

11) Natalie Portman (Léon the Professional) [-4]

10) Keira Knightley (Love Actually) [-6]

9) Rachel Weisz (The Mummy Returns) [NR]

8) Anne Hathaway (The Devil Wears Prada) [NR]

7) Katherine Heigl (Bride of Chucky) [NR]

6) Scarlett Johannson (Lost in Translation) [-]

5) Rosario Dawson (25th Hour) [NR]

4) Charlize Theron (Monster) [-1]

3) Jessica Alba (Sin City) [-1]

2) Catalina Sandino Moreno (Maria Full of Grace) [-1]

1) Eva Green (Casino Royale) [NR]

What the hell happened to Christianity?

I was surfing around on CNN last week and this article by Jay Bakker caught my eye. If you don't know, he is the son of the infamous 80's televangelists Jim and Tammy Faye Bakker. He now has his own ministry that he runs out of a bar and has a reality show as well. I actually met him in high school when he came and talked to a bunch of kids before classes (I think it was a FCA meeting). After growing up in ultra-conservative Georgia with tons of Southern Baptists running around, I tend to throw all of Protestantism under the bus because of a few nutjobs out there. So it's nice to see people like Jay show me that I shouldn't be too quick to judge either and to be careful with that brush I'm holding. People nowadays associate Christianity with a lot of things, good and bad, but I think tolerance and openness should come into renewed focus once again. I thought I would go ahead and publish the article in its entirety on this site because he has some nice sentiments which also reflect a lot of my own views. Or if you want, check out the original CNN article here.

By Jay Bakker and Marc Brown

What the hell happened? Where did we go wrong? How was Christianity co-opted by a political party? Why are Christians supporting laws that force others to live by their standards? The answers to these questions are integral to the survival of Christianity.

While the current state of Christianity might seem normal and business-as-usual to some, most see through the judgment and hypocrisy that has permeated the church for so long. People witness this and say to themselves, "Why would I want to be a part of that?" They are turned off by Christians and eventually, to Christianity altogether. We can't even count the number of times someone has given us a weird stare or completely brushed us off when they discover we work for a church.

So when did the focus of Christianity shift from the unconditional love and acceptance preached by Christ to the hate and condemnation spewed forth by certain groups today? Some say it was during the rise of Conservative Christianity in the early 1980s with political action groups like the Moral Majority. Others say it goes way back to the 300s, when Rome's Christian Emperor Constantine initiated a set of laws limiting the rights of Roman non-Christians. Regardless of the origin, one thing is crystal clear: It's not what Jesus stood for.

His parables and lessons were focused on love and forgiveness, a message of "come as you are, not as you should be." The bulk of his time was spent preaching about helping the poor and those who are unable to help themselves. At the very least, Christians should be counted on to lend a helping hand to the poor and others in need.

This brings us to the big issues of American Christianity: Abortion and gay marriage. These two highly debatable topics will not be going away anytime soon. Obviously, the discussion centers around whether they are right or wrong, but is the screaming really necessary? After years of witnessing the dark side of religion, Marc and I think not.

Christians should be able to look past their differences and agree to disagree. This allows people to discuss issues with respect for one another. Christians are called to love others just as they are, without an agenda. Only then will Christianity see a return to its roots: Loving God with all of your heart and loving your neighbor as yourself.

The Apostle Paul describes this idea of love beautifully in 1 Corinthians 13:4-7: "Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous or boastful or proud or rude. It does not demand its own way. It is not irritable, and it keeps no record of being wronged. It does not rejoice about injustice but rejoices whenever the truth wins out. Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance."

But don't take our word for it; look at what Jesus and his followers stood for in his time and what Christianity stands for today. Then come to your own conclusion.

Braving the elements

WINTER OF DISCONTENT? HELL NO, BRING IT ON!
Well, after weeks of anxious waiting by me, winter has at long last appeared in New England. Last Monday morning it snowed a bit, but it had mostly turned to slush by the time I got out of the shower and left to go to work. However, the weather did take a noticeable turn with temperatures dipping down into and below the twenties. All very fine by me. Prior to last week, it was constantly hovering around 50 degrees and the sky was filled with nothing but a dreary, grey rain. I'd much prefer it to be below freezing and snowing.

According to an online poll on the Weather Channel's website, 58.5% of the American populace prefer to swelter in extreme summer heat than endure frigid winter cold. Count me in the minority for that one. My philosophy is that if you're cold you can always throw a sweater on; if it's 95 degrees out and the AC is broken then you're fucked. Ten out of ten times, I'd rather be lost in the Yukon with a book of matches than stuck in the Sahara with a Dasani. But since moving to New England, all anyone and everyone can tell me is how a Georgia boy like me is going to hate the winters here.

I like the winter. Maybe I read too many stories about the Malemute Kid in my youth and formed some kind of Romantic, idyllic connection between them and the cold, white North, but I have such a respectful, fascination with the freezing, frost-gloved grip of Winter. I like the cold. I like the wind whipping up in my face, setting my cheekbones and the tips of my ears on fire. I like the snowflakes that clump on my jacket and stick in my eyelashes. I love the smell of woodsmoke and the taste of the cold air as I breathe it into my lungs. I like the numbness and the sensation of my heart beating to keep my limbs supplied with hot blood. I like the feeling of life fighting against the bitter chill that seeps in your bones, threatening to still every living molecule in your body.

But most of all, I like coming home and in out of the cold: that rush of relief as you throw off wet scarf, gloves, and coat and sit in front of the fire or the heat register, hot chocolate in hand. That is a damn good feeling.

WATERLOGGED
For some odd reason, I have been fixed on the idea of drowning lately. I have had nightmares about it happening to me and I've become terrified at the prospect of being lost at sea after a trans-Atlantic plane crash. The funny thing is that I'm planning no ocean voyages or overseas trips anytime soon, so I'm not anxious about anything like that. I suspect it may have something to do with watching 'Casino Royale', as the ending was a little intense and I almost had to forcibly check my gag reflex. I suppose it doesn't help much either that I am currently reading a book about an Indian boy lost at sea for over 6 months.

Not just science fiction but science fraud

THERE IS NO EXIT STRATEGY FOR PLANET EARTH
I don't want to go on some long diatribe here, but lately there has been a lot of news bouncing about concerning matters that I take a lot of issue with. That something would be the prospect of galaxy-spanning space travel and space colonization. Every few years it seems some moron passing himself off as a reasonable man of science or public figure decides it would be a great idea to invest a helluva lot of money towards some pointless goal like moon settlement (no really, there's water there, we just can't see it!) or manned Mars exploration (thank you President Bush for adding another seemingly unattainable task to America's policy queue). My response is to immediately ignore these folks and go about my day.

Now as a kid, I grew up living and thriving on science fiction. I read Jules Verne, Ray Bradbury, and the eternally great Isaac Asimov. When I was very small (one of my first memories, in fact) I traveled to Houston, Texas to meet my grandmother's cousin, who was a legendary Apollo astronaut. He had been into space for one mission and had served in mission control for many of our country's most prestigious moon missions, including that ill-fated and immortal Apollo 13 mission. As I have come to understand it, he was a big reason our boys got home safely. He was also scheduled to go up again in the 90's and be the oldest man to go in space. Unfortunately, he had a burning desire to climb Mount Everest. He died and is buried there and Sen. John Glenn took his place. I went to Space Camp as a kid, both in Huntsville and at Cape Canaveral. I was a kid who wanted to be an astronaut, who wanted to discover vast and far away galaxies and set my boots on new planets, claiming them for America and the human race. All I'm trying to say is that more than a lot of people, I have a stake in this space travel fantasy and desire.

So imagine my disappointment as I grew up and learned about astronomy and physics and all those other scientific fields that demand a high understanding of complex mathematics. I found out that any sort of meaningful long-range manned space travel was essentially impossible. You can't travel the speed of light, there is no hyperspace, no magical warp space or wormholes prepared to deliver you to the other side of the universe or even the Milky Way at a whim. It was all just a pipe dream, something you might write about in a story or daydream about, but nothing real or tangible that I could hope for in my lifetime or even in a thousand generations of lifetimes. I got over it, I moved on.

So it's a bit comical now seeing NASA calling for a moonbase and planning to visit Mars to finally determine once and for all that there is nothing there except red dust and a toxic atmosphere. It's also sad that the American public is going to spend good money on this project when it could be used for a better purpose.

But imagine my surprise when I read that Stephen Hawking himself thinks it necessary that human beings expand beyond our solar system and colonize new planets in order to survive. Usually this kind of scientific speculation is left to nutjobs and the fatally idealistic. Granted, Hawking is a genius and arguably the most respected physicist on the planet, but this just smacks of irresponsibility to me. Perhaps these complex theories and propulsion systems are remotely possible, but we are certainly millenia, if not hundreds of thousands of years, away from any sort of real breakthrough on this front. And just the fact that he referenced 'Star Trek' makes the whole notion seem that much more in the realm of romantic hope and fantasy. Uneducated and delusional people around the globe are going to continue to latch onto these far-fetched ideas and hope to run away from Earth's problems, rather than use those resources and that knowledge to tackle them.

My circadian rhythms are bumpin'

MASSACHUSETTAN...MASSACHUSETTER...MASSACHUSETTITE?
In case you've been AWOL for the past few months -- oh wait, no that was me -- and out of the loop, I have a new state. I am now a resident of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, a Bay Stater. At least that's what the quickly disappearing numbers on my paycheck say. And Boston sports fans aside, I have been pretty pleased with my new environs.

Everything here is old. Whether in Boston or here on the North Shore, there is a vibrant living history about the place. It helps to have Salem right down the street, where the centuries-old houses feature plates that name the carpenter and original occupant. Built in 1794 by Ebeneezer So-and-so for Captain Proctor and his Wyfe. It would not surprise me in the least if I were to meet Hester Prynn or Ishmael meandering down the cobbled backstreets or out by Pickering Wharf. I can stand on Essex Bridge, spanning the waters between Salem and Beverly, and look out past the harbor and to the sea, imagining what it would be like to be some ancient Narragansett standing among the eaves of green, virgin forest and seeing European masts on the horizon for the first time.

I have to also say that Beverly has a most excellent cemetary. Strange as it may be, I love cemetaries. I spent late Saturday afternoon walking along the rows of marble headstones and moss-grown crypts quietly musing to myself. Perhaps it's a bit dark, but it is magical to be a living, breathing person and surrounded by the houses of the dead, briefly touching the stones and imagining who these people were, what their histories are. I hiked to the top of the high hill at the east end to admire the large W_ family mauseleum that squatted there amongst perfectly eldritch trees, drinking in the atmosphere the entire time and loving it. I left with dusk giving way to night, daring the dark to come but equally wishing not to get caught locked in, inventing morbid little vampire stories the whole way out.

MY, BUT AREN'T YOU A PLEASANT PSYCHOPATH?
I get to visit with the psychiatrist and have a nice long chat about my brain-fever and melancholy in a couple of weeks. I must say that I am thrilled. I get to find out what exactly my problem is and possibly be diagnosed as clinically depressed, bi-polar, manic-depressive, or simply just "certifiable." Are you dripping with anxiety? I sure am.

GOOD GOD! WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MY CHILDHOOD!?
I'm sure that there are people who will be beating down the cinema doors to see this crap and next year's 'Transformers', but I honestly don't know why. Eighties cartoons do not good films make. My childhood was great, but it is just that, my childhood. I am now in adulthood, or some quasi-changeling state in between the two. I have good memories of 'He-Man' and 'G.I. Joe' but other than the odd 'Family Guy' reference I'm not all that interested in revisting them. Half of the cartoons are just so bad they are unbearable to watch anyway (Thundercats, anyone?). Not too mention that Hollywood has plans in the works for a new Pee-Wee Herman movie, a 'Fraggle Rock' movie that is set in the 'real world', and a 'Dark Crystal' sequel. Count me out...unless they decide to tackle an R-rated Teddy Ruxpin flick. I can see it now -- Teddy Ruxpin & Grubby Meet the Glowworms!

Bitten by the bug

I should be in bed (I'm trying a new routine of early morning running), but I just felt compelled to get up and jot down a few lines. I guess after such a long time I just feel like writing again and I don't want to lose anymore fresh ideas to a night of sleep. That and the fact that I think I have bedbugs. In fact I've nearly convinced myself of the idea. It may just be winter weather and dry skin, but I am itching all over right now. No rash, just itching.

I actually read a few months ago that bedbugs (an oldie but a goodie!) were making a big comeback in the U.S. -- especially in the Northeast -- thanks to new waves of immigrants from countries without the luxuries of things like DDT and showers. And now they share a rented room of a boarding house with me in Massachusetts! I guess it could turn out to be fun -- like that bad MTV movie with the talking cockroaches and Jerry "yeah, I was the fat kid from 'Stand By Me'" O'Connell.

All part of the adventure that is this place, I suppose. Today I woke up to find that the hot water was out; a cold shower was not a very appealing option for late November in New England so I opted for the grunge "I've got world problems way more important than personal hygeine on my mind" look at work. I also have a rather loud neighbor who is a nurse and therefore tends to keep odd hours. She blasts heavy metal music on her stereo most of the day. This wouldn't typically be a problem since I like heavy metal, but she plays weird, moody Evanescence-like crap. And I don't know what she watches that is so funny, but she has a shrieking laugh that sounds like the offspring of a hyena and a howler monkey on crack.

But I get what I paid for. And what I paid for is a minimalist monk's cell that I hoped would help me live a Spartan lifestyle as I try to plug into a vein of inspiration and get some writing work done. Until next time, I'm off to sleep and trying not to let the bedbugs bite.

Cashed out but buying back in with champagne bottle in hand

OUT OF ATHENS AND INTO THE MAELSTROM
Hello Cleveland! No seriously, it's good to be back. Where have I been? Sit back and allow me to regale you with the tale. A tale of not two, but three cities.

Rewind some three months ago and we find our strangely charming but flawed protagonist on the eve of leaving Athens, Georgia (the scene of his most uncomfortable comfort zone) in a state of melancholy and poverty feeling worthless, penniless, hopeless, and some other words ending in a similar suffix. For some odd reason he had it in his head that this departure would be nothing but a brief sabbatical before he returned to this quaint Southern college town. However, like any other great Greek drama it seems the Divine Fates had other plans in mind.

And so now I am on the road pushing ever westward and ever northward towards a destination and a destiny I have yet to comprehend. For the moment I sit shotgun, sharing the bench with my mother who sits to my left, piloting this beast of a UHaul across the asphalt spiderweb that covers my American landscape. I now remember what I had forgotten in my teenage rebellion and youthful isolationism: my mother is a great woman, perhaps the greatest woman, a woman built of kindness and quiet dignity, but maintaining a ferocious strength about her.

In my hand rests a book, a novel of fitting and ironic significance. In the darkening light my eyes scan line after line of the wandering adventures of Sal Paradise and Dean Moriarty as they criss-cross the very same earth that I am writing my own tale into. My brain begins to think in the prose of Kerouac and I cannot help but think that the old man would approve of my own journey, my own tale of the road. But this is not a rehashing of old events; the yellow headlights illustrate something new, a fresh and inviting story that has yet to be told. And with that in mind we race towards the purple bruise of the sunset, eager to beat it, and wondering what secrets it holds in store for us. A succession of states fall in eventual turn to us; a pair of unstoppable conquerors who arm themselves not with torch and sword, but with gasoline and the American highway.

We pass through cities, great American cities, and into the bosom of the American plain. She opens her welcoming arms to us and even grants us passage over her magnificent waterways, including Old Man Mississippi, the river of my birth. For me this is the heartwater of my nation and it is no surprise to me that a man who plied these noble, muddy waters would be his country's greatest spokesman. And that a man so tied to them would be our greatest leader. But my travels continue away from this mighty artery and into the Midwestern prairie.

Wisconsin. This state shares great concerns as I pass through her hills. A land of sunshine and simple, green rolling land. My Teutonic ancestors would have loved this place; a land of green pasture and simple desires. What a strange thing to hold her in such high regard as I try to outdo her. Minnesota fails in that regard; a grey, slow land that wishes to be more but restricts itself in several sad tales. This is not home. And so I come to Boston. A friend has a job opening and I am suddenly where I have wanted to be for ages. I was in Minnesota for a paltry time period and now I must remove myself to a more cosmopolitan arena. Boston and New England call to me. This is a place I have longed for since an early age. For now I am content...

Shine on you crazy diamond

Today I found out that Syd died a few days ago from diabetes. He was 60 years old. There aren't a lot of words that I think of to put together to express how I feel. I always knew that he would be the first of the five to pass away, but that hasn't made it any easier on me. In a lot of ways he was the least of them. He wasn't Roger or David or Nick or Rick. He had nothing to do with 'Dark Side of the Moon' or 'Animals' or 'The Wall'. If you had asked most people or even casual Pink Floyd fans they would not have been able to tell you who he was. But in a lot of ways, Syd was the best of them. He was Pink Floyd. After all he was the founding guitarist and lead singer and he was responsible for grabbing 3 kids out of architecture school to create a band that he named Pink Floyd.

I could tell you a million different things about Syd Barrett. I could tell you how he revolutionized the London rock-n-roll scene and created 'space rock'. I could tell you about the days at the UFO Club and how he was good friends with Jimi Hendrix and how he was there the day John and Oko met. I could tell you about the bluesmen who influenced him and the rock and rollers he in turn influenced. I could tell you about the acid and the mental problems. But I don't need to do that. I can just tell you that Syd Barrett was an amazing guitarist and songwriter. He had all the promise in the world and he was determined to beat the Beatles. If things had gone differently I'm pretty sure he could have done it.

But he fell apart and the band moved on without him. But they never forgot him. I still think one of the most touching stories in music concerns Pink's album 'Wish You Were Here'. The album centered around Syd and illnesses. One day out of no where, Syd showed up at Abbey Road and asked if he could help in any way. No one had heard from him in several years, and he had just showed up out of nowhere. Everyone there was moved to tears.

Today I am moved to tears to learn about his death. I never expected him to come out and give any interviews or make some new music, but just knowing he was still there in a small house in Cambridge made me happy. I'm glad to hear that his last years were peaceful; full of painting and gardening. But I will be forever saddened to know one of the world's great talents has left us forever. We'll miss you Syd.

Roger 'Syd' Barrett 1946-2006

"Come on you raver, you seer of visions,
Come on you painter, you piper, you prisoner, and shine!"

Opening weekend grosses

This is why I am very selective on which movies I see on their opening weekend. I know it might be hard for people to understand, but I do not like to jeopardize Star Wars box office records and grosses by seeing films which have a tendency to draw in a lot of people. I know, you're saying, "Don't you think that's a little weird, a little psycho?" No, I don't. I respect the integrity of Mr. Lucas' films and I want to do what I can to preserve it. Of course I realize that one man is not going to effect anything, but for me it's about the principle. I didn't go see 'Superman Returns' until the following Monday, and I'm sure this pirate movie is entertaining and probably pretty good, but I don't think it deserves to draw more opening day business than 'Episode III'. I still am yet to see 'Titanic', and I am a huge James Cameron fan. So I guess I'll let you have your opinion, but don't rag me up and down about mine.

Oh glorious day!

Imagine this padawan learner's unadulterated bliss upon learning that come September 12, he will own the classic Star Wars trilogy on DVD. Not the Special Edition, no extra scenes or shots at all, just the original 1977, 1980, and 1983 theatrical releases of the films. We finally got George to break down! I thought this day would never come; I've hoped and prayed for it, and now after long years of CG Sarlacc pits and revised Greedos it is finally going to happen. I was just wondering two days ago if this would ever happen. I thought, "No way while George has control over it. Maybe when he joins the ethereal mysteries of the Force, God forbid this ever happening, his estate might finally release them." But he finally caved and we simple members of Nerdom have our victory! Praise be to the Father Anakin, the Son Luke, and the Holy Force!

A list of Special Edition extras I won't be missing:

- Greedo shooting first

- That atrocious Jabba scene in the hangar

- Ian McDiarmid replacing the old woman who played the Emperor in ESB

- The Star Wars music video in Jabba's palace (I so loved the song that Max Rebo's Band originally played)

- The cruel fate of Oola the dancing Twi'lek (one could have guessed from the screams issuing from the Rancor pit)

- Boba Fett pimping bitches

- The Sarlacc with the beak and CG tentacles

- Han Solo's dumb revised line as he rescues Lando; the original "Trust me" had so much irony and meaning after Lando's sellout of Han

- The score at the end of ROTJ that replaced the original Ewok tribal song (some of my favorite music of the films)

As you can see there is a running theme here with ROTJ; the Special Edition of that movie sucked hard core.

However, there are a few Special Edition treats that I enjoy.

- Dewbacks!

- some of the expanded Mos Eisley shots

- more shots of the Wampa ice creature

- expanded look at Cloud City with the pink sunsets

- the shot of the Bantha herd as Jabba's Sail Barge flies past

Now if we can only get them to release the theatrical version of TPM that they tried to cover up. Damn you Rick McCallum!

Harry Potter wants your Christian souls!

I was at work on Friday when I saw something in the local newspaper that caught my eye. Apparently, if you enjoy reading about Harry Potter and his adventures you will soon find yourself caught up attending Black Sabbaths and worshipping Satan. That's what some crazy Georgia parents think at least --- in this, our latest edition of, "Why Christian Fundamentalists are Fucking Nutjobs!"

So anyway, this woman is trying to get the books banned in Gwinnett Co. schools rather than do her job as a parent. She believes they promote evil ideas like witchcraft and the occult and yada, yada, yada. Hey, she's entitled to her opinion, no matter how stupid it is (and it is stupid), but don't force it on other kids and families. Great strategy: try to ruin other people's lives to make things a little easier on yourself. I've never understood the banning book thing. If the purpose of school is to teach children and open their eyes to new ideas and such, than why deny books to them? If this woman has such a problem with books, just home-school your kids and don't ever expose them to anything different so they can grow up to be brain-washed little introverts who can't function in a real environment. Get over yourself lady. The best part is that the woman has no idea what she's talking about. She's never even read the damn books!

[Mrs. Mallory] admitted that she has not read the book series partially because “they’re really very long and I have four kids.”“I’ve put a lot of work into what I’ve studied and read. I think it would be hypocritical for me to read all the books, honestly. I don’t agree with what’s in them. I don’t have to read an entire pornographic magazine to know it’s obscene,” Mallory said.

Do you hear the words that are coming out of your mouth, woman!? It's actually very hypocritical that you are making a blanket judgement that you have no idea about. Doesn't sound like you put in a lot of work after all. But that is how all these people are. They get it into their little minds that something is bad or against Christianity and they condemn it without even doing a little research. It's like this genius who writes the little Chick Christian comics about how you're going to Hell. I looooove this guy. Some stupid-ass Protestant Bible-beater* who thinks he knows everything. He has a great comic about Dungeons & Dragons. Hey genius! -- if you play D&D, the only thing you are gonna become is a loser, not a Satan worshipper. If a kid reads Harry Potter or plays a fantasy game and ends up casting spells or sacrificing the neighborhood cat, it's most likely due to the fact he can't separate reality and has major issues that are deeper than just a children's book.

So let's summarize: DON'T BAN BOOKS!!! It's a stupid thing to do, a real waste of everyone's time, and a pretty backwards exercise. If you have a problem with a book, or a video-game, or whatever, just talk to your kids about why you think they shouldn't read it. Your child will probably love you more if you just do your job as a parent and don't try to be some crusading social activist. Then again, you are probably a domestic fascist and your child will most likely rebel in his teen years and smoke a lot of drugs and have a lot of unprotected sex and just plain hate your guts, sending you to an early grave after you suffer a cataclysmic and crippling stroke while making brownies for the local Church bake sale. So maybe just chill out and grab a beer.

*I generally do not like Baptists, who seem to comprise the majority of the nutjob fundamentalists, and I do realize that I am making a lot of sweeping judgements about this particular sect of Christianity. I apologize if you are Baptist and can think for yourself; I don't mean to insult your faith and drag you into the broader picture. I just have a problem with the idiots out there.

25 reasons why I am a nerd*

25) Twi'leks are hot.

24) My dream presidential ticket would include Albus Dumbledore and Gandalf the Grey. Conan the Barbarian would serve as Secretary of Defense.

23) I own a lightsaber.

22) Up - Up - Down - Down - Left - Right - Left - Right - B - A - B - A - Select - Start.

21) In the past few days I've rediscovered the glorious wonder that is Final Fantasy IX. I've since logged about 25 hours into it.

20) I think this is one of the funniest websites I've seen in ages. Ninjas rule!

19) The worst thing you can call me is a Trekkie. Although I do agree with Mr. Campbell that Star Trek: TNG, while it can never be as recognized, is far superior to the original.

18) I get 98% of Seth McFarlane's jokes.

17) I've been to a convention.

16) Two of the most intriguing characters in modern English literature are Batman and Anakin Skywalker.

15) Am I the only person who thinks the 'Legend of Zelda' would make a good video-game movie?

14) Contrary to popular belief, Trolls are NPCs and cannot level up.

13) I don't fear the bird flu. I fear deadly outbreaks of zombie attacks. George Romero doesn't make movies; he makes documentaries that can serve as survival guides when the shit hits the fan.

12) Finding out the name of the Childlike Empress was a major turning point in my life. Everything that happens here on out will be deemed post-Moonchild.

11) I directed, produced, and starred in my own Star Wars fan film.

10) Even though I hate Harry Knowles with a passion, I make a point to check his website throughout the week.

9) I've camped out for movie tickets.

8) I wrote a blog about how Superman sucks.

7) The Three Laws of Robotics are . . .

6) I have to constantly explain myself after I quote obscure movies.

5) If the Holy Trinity was composed of George Lucas, Stephen Spielberg, and James Cameron, I would be Ok with that.

4) You saw the 'Lord of the Rings' movies, but you are ignorant of the fact that Fingolfin is the coolest elf this side of Middle-Earth cuz you didn't read 'The Silmarillion.' I did.

3) Comic books are the new books.

2) I went to see 'Monsters, Inc.' in theaters just to see a 30 second 'Episode II' teaser. The feature was good too.

1) I heart Star Wars.

* And damn proud of the fact.

Ahhh, the sweet smell of...semen?

Well, spring is . . . springing(?) in North Georgia. It's getting warm enough for shorts, baseball season is starting, and the dogwoods are blooming, bringing with them the omnipresent scent of human ejaculatory fluid. Seriously, why the hell do these trees smell exactly like cum? Walk outside and you'd think some cosmic giant jacked off into your front lawn. I don't know if you people have these trees where you live, but I hope for your sake that they are restricted to Dixie. The cherries of Washington are a prettier sight for the eyes and far easier on the nose.

Anyway, so begins the suckiest season of the quartet. In Georgia, the weather tends to be quite warm, but sometimes without a whim the sun goes off on a week-long bender and it gets cold again. I think we had snow in April a few years ago. I like defined seasons. I have no problem with the cold if I know it's gonna be cold, but it sucks to walk to class in a T-shirt because it was 85 degrees yesterday and find it's 40 instead. The human animal is one of adaptation and gradual inclination; extreme hot and colds are no fun.

And then you have the sheer wonder of seasonal allergies. Lo! What misery is visited upon the face of Man! In this case, my face . . . and my head, my sinuses, my eyes. And no simple ragweed hayfever this; this is a full onslaught of yellow spoor originating of the sinister Georgia pine! For a mimimum of six whole weeks, the whole expanse of the Earth is covered in this dusty blanket. Death by mustard gas would be preferable.

The remaining three seasons are much better in comparison to the horror that is spring. Summer, autumn, and winter. Everything's roasted, everything's dying, everything's dead.

Disciple of the Reading Rainbow

I only made one real New Year's resolution this year: READ MORE. I used to read so much when I was younger; I've always read a lot but it seems that I've fallen off in the last couple of years and not kept up with stuff. When I was a kid I devoured books; I would easily read a 200-300 page book in a matter of hours. I've always attributed a lot of my intelligence to my reading habits; nothing helps you learn or stretches your brain better than reading. Fuck school; if you have the books you can always teach yourself. I know when I was in kindergarten I read at a 4th or 5th grade level.

Anyway . . . I figured I would try to discipline myself and try to read a book a week this year. I'm a little behind already having read only four books in about seven weeks, but to be fair none of the books have been less than 600 pages. In total, my pleasure reading has numbered 3,546 pages so far. Of course, this hasn't included any of my school reading, which has added a couple of hundred of pages to be sure. Al Bakri, Lacan, Mulvey, the Qur'an, Ibn Battuta: what absolute fun this semester has been so far. If I can hit 20,000 pages and about 52 books this year I'll be pretty pleased with myself. So if you're bored go read a book.

Casting call

After the Oscar nominations were announced I saw that the trend of younger talent being recognized is not only continuing, but getting stronger. Even though Dame Judi Dench continues to be nominated every year, the overall groups of women (whom I am focusing on here) are getting pretty young and remaining so.

And the Best Actress category seems to be the most groundbreaking in the last couple of years as well; admitting Halle Berry as the first black Best Actress, the 'Whale Rider' girl as the youngest nominee for Best Actress, my sweetheart Catalina as the first Spanish-speaking nominee, and Charlize Theron as the first Oscar winner to successfully make the jump from former model to real actress (sorry Milla). All in all, pretty wild stuff.

This year, Michelle Williams looks poised to grab the Best Supporting statuette and the coveted "First Dawson's Creek Alum to Actually Do Something With Their Lives Other Than Excite Tom Cruise Into A Freakish Adolescent Frenzy Award" for her role in the ever-popular 'Brokeback Mountain'. In the spirit of all this estro-mania I decided to make a little list of my own to award deserving actresses. As follows are the Top 10 actresses I would love to work/sleep with in the process of shooting a film.

10) Ziyi Zhang: Her work is both powerful and subtle and she commands the physicality and grace for action films and the presence for drama. I've never really been all that attracted to Asian women, but she's turning that all around.

9) Emmanuelle Chriqui: I first noticed her in the college comedy '100 Girls' and since then in bit work, such as 'Waiting' and HBO's 'Entourage'. I don't know much about her acting, but she's fucking hot!

8) Uma Thurman: If she's good enough for Quentin, she's good enough for me.

7) Natalie Portman: She's been nominated for an Oscar and she was in 'Star Wars'!? Duh!

6) Scarlett Johannson: I actually fell in love with her before Bill Murray and Sofia Coppola did. 'Ghost World' anyone?

5) Kate Beckinsale: In 'Underworld' she plays a hot, Goth vampire chick who takes pity on us mere mortals. Harry Knowles just creamed his pants.

4) Keira Knightley: See # 7 plus British accent. ('Star Wars' Trivia: She and Natalie Portman both played Queen Amidala in 'Episode I')

3) Charlize Theron: I honestly do respect Charlize's acting chops. A friend and I went to see 'Monster' when it opened and it was pretty powerful. In addition, I'd bat cleanup to Stephan Jenkins any day of the week.

2) Jessica Alba: Wow, talk about a strong argument for interracial marriage. I actually do think she's a good actor; I'm just worried she's gonna get type-cast into comic book roles. Guess I'll have to write a dramatic role especially for her.

1) Catalina Sandino Moreno: I love her and I will marry her.

The epistle apostle

I was thinking today about how the art of letter-writing is so seemingly lost. In the past two weeks, I have had people tell me that not only was the cost of stamps rising two cents but that the United States Congress is considering passing a bill into law that would charge a nickel for every email message sent in the country. How did we get to this point? It seems that our Information Age technological society simply has forgotten the simple graces of epistolary writing. When was the last time you either received or sent a letter or even a postcard? It seems that even birthday and Christmas cards are down across the board.

It's very sad that an art that has been with mankind for thousands of years is being wiped off the map almost suddenly. It's true that the advent of the telegraph and telephone cut down on the need to communicate by letter, but I believe that it wasn't until the advent of digital email that the death warrant was finally signed.

For many years letters have conveyed the personal thoughts and sentiments of human beings across the world, having simple, personal or even worldwide effects on mankind. Hell, half of the New Testament is a collection of letters. The romance of Thomas Paine and the early revolutionaries, the Pony Express, love letters and family missives sent from war-torn Europe during the 1940s. What would the world be like without these things? What if Dracula was just another story instead of an epistolary masterpiece? As a writer and historian, the detoriation of letter-writing makes me very sad. How are future generations to understand our ways of life, our thoughts, and our dreams without correspondence printed on common parchment? The letters of men great and base are an amazing and incredibly in-depth way of studying the civilizations that preceded us. What a perspective they add!

I urge everyone to flex their creative muscle and break out the Bics to write a letter now and again. You don't have to be as prolific as an H.P. Lovecraft and write a library of tens of thousands, but perhaps drop a line of post now and again. A simple letter to a friend or family member. An unexpected surprise in the mail can be a wonderful surprise, even if it's nothing more than a written greeting or salutations. And what better way to improve your vocabulary and language than putting into words what would normally be a mundane phone conversation? Just think; something you write could be enshrined in the National Archives someday.

To the death?...No, to the pain.

So I just finished this conversation with lada about my previous post and my apparent fascination with pain and being in pain. It is simply this: pain equals life. Or rather the struggle to maintain life. What's so wrong with being obsessed with wanting to be alive? Nothing at all. It's perhaps the most elementary of all human instincts. It is something very animalistic, primal, and basic that we all exhibit as common shareholders of the DNA for Homo sapiens. To feel pain is to truly know life.

For me, the simple definition of death is the absence of pain. If you were to hack a corpse to pieces, it's not going to suddenly jump up and shout for mercy. The nerve endings aren't transmitting any chemical signals; the body is just so much cordwood. The same if someone became calloused and shut themselves off from the world. Emotionally they are numb and for all intents and purposes dead in that way -- if not medically. This line of thought could also be extended to the spiritual side of life as well. Gets a little more tricky with people's individual beliefs but it can still hold. If you can't feel pain than you are either medically deceased or emotionally numb to the point you might as well be some zombie wandering around a shopping mall in Pittsburgh.

I'd like to go into more detail about this right now, especially concerning my thoughts on the pain of heartbreak and such, but I'm running on an hour of sleep and hopped up on Robotussin so it'll have to wait another day.

It's late, I just drank a bottle of champagne, and what the fuck am I doing?

Why is the beginning always so hard for me to write? It seems that everything I write or do, it's so damn difficult to get past Act One. It would seem for most people it is the finishing that is so hard. For me? Complete opposite. I never seem to like how I start so I hit reset and begin again. Trouble is I'm never satisfied. It's just simple exposition: introduce some characters, add a little backstory, set up time and space and just go. It's like that old Greek story of the wicked king hanging out in Tartarus condemned to roll his boulder up his hill. He gets half of the way up before he starts having problems; at least he can get the ball rolling. Why can't I just go and see what happens. I'll give it a shot.

The protagonist is this story is me. The Dunce Cap Marvel. I'm 23 but act both 16 and 43 in equal parts. I either worry too much about the past or the future and totally disregard much of what is happening in the present. I'm a student at the University of Georgia. Or, rather I act like Chris Farley acting like a student. I don't think anyone would mistake me for Stephen Hawking, and not just because I lack a seriously disabling disease that leaves me confined to a chair. I don't really have a very bright and sunny disposition. In fact, I'm rather dark and brooding. Some of that comes from the clinical depression I suffer from and the rest from my wanting to be Lord Byron. I always say I should have been born a 19th century Romantic. My heroes are literary giants: Poe, London, Hemingway. If only I could write and drink and die as they did.

Life sucks sometimes; most times really. I wouldn't have it any other way though. Yeah, I'm a little masochistic but it really does make the great times truly GREAT. Why would anyone care that the sun was shining if there weren't thunderstorms? As lada loves to tell me, life is beautiful. And it is. I live in a world that has many simple beauties. Trees. Mountains. Oceans. I've been in love twice in my life. A lot of people can't say that. I have a great family and wonderful friends. There is a lot of promise and hope and love in my life. It evens out the sorrow, loneliness, and pain.

Life is a two-sided coin. My favorite movie is 'Return of the Jedi'. That's because of Darth Vader. His character embodies humanity. The good and the bad, the joy and the pain, the light and the dark side. Hopelessly entangled. And the best part of the movie? He redeems himself and comes out of it a pretty good guy who by the way saves the galaxy. Every person's goal everyday should be to redeem his or herself. I truly believe that. That's just a little window into me. You know, it's not that hard going after you get started.

ps. And one more thing: I'm a sucker for dog stories. I cry everytime.