Spring is Here

Typically, I don't consider the seasons to have changed without my hay fever giving me fits, but I think it's time to admit/concede/rejoice that Spring has sprung.

It's 55° outside, 75° inside here at work. Two weeks ago, I couldn't have got the temp to 75 with the heater on (probably could've last week with the heater).

Aside from this making it even more difficult to keep the kids attention focused on school (particularly for Samwise), I think this is a good thing.

Do kinda wonder what happened to my hay fever tho.

Shoshone Falls

The weather here is finally starting to resemble spring (mid-70's today). Now normally, I celebrate this by turning on the A/C as I crack open a book. But this year, we decided to try something different...and go outside. Last week the local paper was talking about how great Shoshone Falls was looking this year (video at the link), with officials releasing water from reservoirs to make room for melting mountain snowpack. So we decided to take a day trip to check it out.

Little did we know at the time, about three-quarters of Southern Idaho was thinking the same thing. About two miles from the park, traffic came to a stand still, a few yards from there, we saw a sign warning that due to high traffic we could expect a delay of up to twenty-five minutes. They were only off by thirty minutes. Yup. Took us 55 minutes to travel 2 miles. (the way out took 10 min--probably would've been 5 if it hadn't been for all the people who decided to abandon their cars and walk the 2 miles--and take up half the 'out' route in the process)
Anyhow, it was a pleasant day, got some decent pics (and some others, too). Tried some nature shots, which I don't normally do, as it involves being out in...nature. Anyhow, here's the thumbnails, click on 'em for a full image.

	the backside of the falls
the backside of the falls, with Lilliputians looking on	that's a lotta water
after the falls	mildly different perspective
Frodo's more impressed than he looks	slightly different perspective
ditto
was trying to get a shot showing how tall the thing was, but that stoopid rainbow got in the way

Thought for the Lord's Day - #39

If every attribute of the Deity were a distinct member, purity would be the form, the soul, the spirit to animate them. Without holiness, his patience would be an indulgence to sin, his mercy a fondness, his wrath a madness, his power a tyranny, his wisdom an unworthy subtlety. Holiness gives decorum to them all.

Stephen Charnock

Arnold Update

Had our regular checkup with the kidney doc today. Everything was in the good to excellent range on the blood test front. Kidney function was at 35-40%, but the doc's not worried--hydration level alone is worth a few percentage points. The doc took a minute or two with the other kids to drill them on anatomy, and teach 'em a little bit (that was fun). And I learned the phrase "the third kidney." Educational for all involved.

Overall, very pleased.

The big news is, he started reading this week. Yeah, if he was less stubborn, he'd have done it in February. Yeah, he's older than his siblings were when they started. But, really, who cares? The kid's on the verge of literacy.

Couldn't be prouder.

...oh yeah, and this weekend, he started whistling. He's pretty good at it, definitely better than any of his siblings (either at this age, or currently). And he knows he's good, so he does it a lot.

Absolutely irritating.

The Ides of April

which means it's time for me to post this quote again.

A man condemning the income tax because of the annoyance it gives him or the expense it puts him to is merely a dog baring its teeth, and he forfeits the privileges of civilized discourse. But it is permissible to criticize it on other and impersonal grounds. A government, like an individual, spends money for any or all of three reasons: because it needs to, because it wants to, or simply because it has it to spend. The last is much the shabbiest. It is arguable, if not manifest, that a substantial proportion of this great spring flood of billions pouring into the Treasury will in effect get spent for that last shabby reason.

--Nero Wolfe

In nomine pizza domine!

a quick peak into my geekery:

^*

Thanks to the virtual signing hosted by Dog Eared Books last week, I received my signed copy of the new Dresden Files novel, Turn Coat this weekend. This being the, I think, 6th signed book in my meager library,^** this one is obviously being added to my "do not loan" list--honestly, not sure I'm going to let myself read it.

------

^*The inscription, "In nomine pizza domine!" is the battle cry of Toot-Toot and his dewdrop faerie friends, as they attack the Summer Court in Summer Knight.

^**I fully expect certain readers, like TLomL, will dispute the use of the word "meager." On this, however, she is uncharacteristically wrong.

Thought for the Lord's Day -- 38

...what the Mediator was to accomplish was no common thing. His task was so to restore us to God's grace as to make of the children of men, children of God; of the heirs of Gehenna, heirs of the Heavenly Kingdom. Who could have done this had not the selfsame Son of God become the Son of man, and had not so taken what was ours as to impart what was his to us, and to make what was his by nature ours by grace? Therefore, relying on this pledge, we trust that we are sons of God, for God’s natural Son fashioned for himself a body from our body, flesh from our flesh, bones from our bones, that he might be one with us. Ungrudgingly he took our nature upon himself to impart to us what was his, and to become both Son of God and Son of man in common with us. Hence that holy brotherhood which he commends with his own lips when he says: "I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God". In this way we are assured of the inheritance of the Heavenly Kingdom; for the only Son of God, to whom it wholly belongs, has adopted us as his brothers. "For if brothers, then also fellow heirs with him."

For the same reason it was also imperative that he who was, to become our Redeemer be true God and true man. It was his task to swallow up death. Who but the Life could do this? It was his task to conquer sin. Who but very Righteousness could do this? It was his task to rout the powers of world and air. Who but a power higher than world and air could do this? Now where does life or righteousness, or lordship and authority of heaven lie but with God alone? Therefore our most merciful God, when he willed that we be redeemed, made himself our Redeemer in the person of his only-begotten Son.

- John Calvin

What Have They, What Have They, What Have They Done to Deserve This?

It's been noted by more than one that extremists have no sense of humor, which might be why PETA hasn't noticed they've become a parody of themselves.

According to News.com.au:

PETA has asked the Pet Shop Boys to change their name as part of a publicity stunt to oppose pet stores.

The animal rights group wrote to the band requesting they change their name to the Rescue Shelter Boys in opposition to the "cruelty" of pet shops.

"Most dogs and cats sold in pet shops are sourced from profit-hungry breeders who may have bred them in cramped, filthy conditions," the letter said.

"Most pet-shop animals are kept in cages or runs that are far too small for their needs.

"Exercise is minimal, and they often never leave their cages until the day that they are sold."

In a message posted on the band's website, the Pet Shop Boys politely declined the bizarre request.

Yes, the name of that band is really encouraging people to frequent/shop at/own and operate pet stores. Same reason every time I listen to Sugarland I want to eat a bunch of candy and/or move to Texas. Or when I listen to Matchbox 20, I want to become an arsonist who plays with die-cast metal car toys. Or the prevalence of Polydactyly in Finger Eleven fans.

Better stop now before I get to that band that recorded "One Week" and "If I Had a Million Dollars," so my mom can read this post without blushing.

(h/t: kletois)

RIP Nick Adenhart

Since I heard about it yesterday morning, I haven't been able to get the death of Nick Adenhart out of my mind.

Obviously, the deaths of all three men in that car are tragic, as are the injuries sustained by the fourth man. But, I only know anything about Adenhart--and outside of hearing about the game, I knew nothing.

A 22 year-old pitcher, who'd seen a little action in the Majors last year, started his rookie year on Wednesday by pitching 6 shut-out innings for the LA Angels. It was one of those nights he'd look back on, tell his kids and grandkids about. One his buddies from high school would remember, they'd have been cheering him on while watching the game on TV--as would his family. This is what they'd all dreamed of since Little League. And where would he go from here?

Then it was all snatched away by a repeat drunk driver running a red light, slamming into a car, driving it into a telephone pole. All that remained was memories--and given what happened after the game Wednesday, those memories can't be full of that much joy.

It's mostly his parents that I can't stop thinking about, the loss their dreams and hopes--but more importantly the loss of their son, horrific even without the timing. I don't know the eternal state of Adenhart or his parents--I pray they know the saving grace of our Lord, and if not, that the Gospel will work in their hearts as they grieve.

If this isn't proof that under the sun, "all is vanity and a striving after wind," I don't know what is. One more reminder that we need to

Enjoy life with the wife whom you love, all the days of your vain life that he has given you under the sun, because that is your portion in life and in your toil at which you toil under the sun. Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with your might

What Made BSG Great

I've been wanting to write something about the phenomenal Battlestar Galactica finale/series, but I'm just not good enough--see the take's that Alan Sepinwall, Maureen Ryan, and R. A. Porter had on it.

What I do want to talk about is this great post by Marcus Sakey over at The Outfit. Now, I don't know why, but I haven't been able to get into one of Sakey's novels, but I really enjoy his blog posts and interviews. Sakey has got his hands on a series bible from BSG, and cited a few passages, all worth reading for anyone interested in the show or the craft of writing. For example:

Our show is, first and foremost, a drama. It is about people. Our characters should always be the most important element of every story. Breaking the traditional rule of the genre, we should sacrifice plot at every turn in favor of character. Time spent discussing the technical problems of outwitting the latest Cylon plot will be better spent dealing with the emotional fallout of the Adama / Lee relationship.

Do not be afraid to expose our characters’ faults, for in their frailties also lie the seeds of their triumphs…Our people are deeply flawed, deeply human characters. They are not, by nature, innately heroic or noble creatures. They do not always make the right decision and do not always do the right thing. They make mistakes, act out of pettiness and spite, and occasionally do things that are reprehensible. However, they are also capable of growth, of change, of learning to overcome their many flaws and rising to he challenges laid before them and performing great and mighty deeds.

They are human.

As Sakey said, that's pure gold for writers. It's because the writers stuck to that that the series was so good. It was the show's humanity, not the F/X, not the mythology, not the acting (all were great, btw), it was the fact that the show was populated by humans.

(tap, tap, tap) Is This Thing On?

I have to stop visiting my pal Micah's Radon Thoughts, gotta delete it from my RSS feed, lose the bookmark. Why? He's got this stupid little widget telling me how long it's been since I posted something new here, and I just can't take the guilt.

I've made a liar out of my post last Monday, sadly. I've now got the number of draft posts up to ten--with roughly the same number of facebook notes in progress (I do intend to reply to all the tags, really...I just spend too much time revising the straight answers I give to make them at least semi-amusing. Plus two other writing projects that I've been unable to get past the blank "page" stage in OpenOffice. Not sure why I can't finish anything...

Will keep trying. In the meantime, I'll just say that I'm not too upset about CC's sloppy start on Monday, so don't bother asking, and that I'm really enjoying Justin Gustainis' Black Magic Woman--glad I gave it a shot, despite a couple tepid reviews. It's like someone sat down to write an urban fantasy convinced that the last few Dresden file novels have been too light.

The Boys Are Back!

All right, all right...that is more like it.

After a disappointing second season, last night's premier of My Boys was not just a return to the air, but a return to form.

My Boys is not a history making show, it doesn't redefine the genre, but when it's firing on all cylinders, it's a whollle lotta fun. At it's core, it's about a group of friends hanging out, enjoying each other's company, making fun of each other, laughing at life, playing a little poker.

It's a comfy show that makes you feel like part of the gang (see: Cheers, season 1 of Friends). Very glad to see it back.

He's Ready for the Next Re-Imagining

All of this has happened before,
and all of this will happen again

This afternoon, Arnold enjoyed some downtime by playing with the art set he got for his birthday--and, as he's oft want to do, he brings his latest project over for me to appraise. I broke out in proud laughter at this one, and had to snap a pic of my latent geek.

(for the overwhelming majority of you who sadly don't get it, check out
the way he cut the paper.

"Singing, we're singing of you, ah, proudly too..."

Just got this great news:

Senate Bill 1017 has passed both the House and the Senate unanimously! The bill is headed for Governor C.L. "Butch" Otter, who has indicated his willingness to approve the bill.

This is a significant victory for homeschool freedom in Idaho. These amendments being adopted into the compulsory school attendance law to protect homeschooling will enable Idaho to avoid the danger experienced by California last year.

Senate Bill 1017 will do the following:

1. It specifically adds private home education in the compulsory school attendance law.

2. It removes the requirement that this private instruction has to be "comparable" to the public school curriculum.

3. It clarifies that homeschoolers do not have to teach any certain number of hours or days per year.

4. With this language added, the law allows other friends or relatives to provide the teaching--not only parents. This flexibility is important for times of crisis where parents want to continue homeschooling but need to have the support of someone outside the home to provide the instruction for a time.

Sen. Russell Fulcher and Rep. Bob Nonini sponsored and labored for this.

Upgrade - updated

updated with a less goofy picture.

I took the Princess in for an eye exam last week--we knew she was having some issues with distance, but...wow, I had no idea how bad it was. When she failed to read the third line of the eyechart, I felt a horrible parent.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know, "If she was in a real school you'd have known about this long ago when she couldn't read the chalkboard..." Whatever. (in my head that's in the voice of Jimmy Neutron's teacher, btw)

Anyway, problem fixed...just got home with her new glasses--pretty fetching, I must say.

man she looks older now...

Hopping back in

Last Monday, I started drafts on 5 or six posts that I was going to try to get up over the course of the week...I finished one. Ooops.

Think I'm going to try to finish those, plus a handful of others this week, but I can't promise anything. It's strange, when I actually force myself to write here, I'm a lot more productive everywhere. When I'm convinced I don't have time for this/other writing so I can accomplish other things, I get nothing done.

And yet I never learn.

Oh well, while I saunter off to ponder that and hopefully nap a bit before work, I'll leave you with this creative re-telling of a classic tale. (If you're having trouble reading the text, try the HD version)

Slagsmålsklubben - Sponsored by destiny from Tomas Nilsson on Vimeo.

(h/t: Very Short List)

Thought for the Lord's Day #37

We do not always know what we are asking for when we pray; when the answer comes, the veritable answer, it is possible that we may be terrified by it. We seek sanctification, and trial will be the reply: we ask for more faith, and more affliction is the result: we pray for the spread of the gospel, and persecution scatters us. Nevertheless, it is good to ask on, for nothing which the Lord grants in his love can do us any harm. Terrible things will turn out to be blessed things after all, where they come in answer to prayer.

- Charles H. Spurgeon

My Little Princess and the Seven Years

My little princess turns seven today, which is just mind-boggling.

She is still the giggliest, most emotional (nigh unto mercurial, really), sweetest, most stubborn, most devoted, chattiest critter I know. Couldn't be prouder of her.

Happy birthday, darlin', Daddy loves ya.

What if Leverage Were a Sitcom?

too good not to share:


(h/t: Kung Fu Monkey)

Batman: Cacophony

Kevin Smith returned to comics with a 3-part Batman mini, which, believe it or not, actually came out within 3 months of the first issue going on sale (am betting DC didn't announce the project 'til they had 3 scripts out of the criminally tardy writer).

Onomatopoeia, created by Smith in his heralded Green Arrow story, comes to Gotham and frees the Joker from Arkham Asylum (creating a little havoc along the way). Naturally, Batman leads the search for the Joker, who's essentially being used by his liberator as bait. Along the way, we get some interesting b-stories (one involving a designer drug made with the Joker's poison), and some great dialogue (Alfred, in particular, was pitch-perfect).

The final confrontation between the Batman and Joker here is one of the better I've read--far better than the conversation in The Killing Joke.

All in all, a good story. Nothing fantastic, but a good solid story. Emblematic of what comics should be--and all too often aren't. Smith didn't stretch a 3-issue tale over 6 issues to make a better trade paperback, he didn't "permanently" alter a character or anything. Character, plot, resolution--thanks for coming, have a nice day.

Smith delivered a story, not an event. Now, unlike Joe Quesada, I'm not against character growth, character development and change--but I am weary of the world-changing, character dying (temporarily), "we're gonna change the face of [insert comic company name here] forever" events. DC currently has 2 such events going on that are naturally opposed to each other--one is posited on the idea that Batman, Superman, and Wonder Woman are so integral to the make-up of reality that without them the nature of the world is permanently altered. The other has Batman dead and a battle to replace him as Gotham's protector waging. Which is it boys? Pick one!

Just tell good stories, and when you decide to have something epoch-changing happen--let it happen and move on, telling stories that come from that. Leave Barry Allen dead, leave Jason Todd dead (why, why, DC, ruin 2 of the best moments of the 80's?), leave Peter Parker married (and outed, since you made that stupid move), leave Steve Rogers in the ground. I swear, if Sue Dibney lives again I will blow something up (and I really liked Sue).

Ooops, seem to have gotten off on a rant there, time to bring it home...Cacophony's a great example of what comics should be. I just hope someone out there in a corporate office remembers that one day.

The Final Battlestar Galactica Airs Tonight

Galactica hs been more than our guardian. She's literally a vessel into which we've poured all of our hopes and dreams. And when she's gone -- when we can no longer derive the security from looking out her window and seeing her massive bulk floating by -- then this life will be over. And a new life will have begun. A new life that requires a new way of thinking.

-Gaius Baltar

So say we all.

A Joke I Identify Far Too Much With Today

The man told his doctor that he wasn't able to do all the things around the house that he used to do. When the examination was complete, he said, "Now, Doc, I can take it. Tell me in plain English what is wrong with me."

"Well, in plain English," the doctor replied, "you're just lazy."

"Okay," said the man. "Now give me the medical term so I can tell my wife."

Stem Cell Sham: O'Rourke Weighs In

Came across a great column yesterday by P. J. O'Rourke, "Stem Cell Sham: The president as sophist." The whole thing is well worth a read, here's a taste

When a Democratic president goes from being wrong to being damn wrong is always an interesting moment: Bay of Pigs, Great Society, Jimmy Carter waking up on the morning after his inauguration, HillaryCare. Barack Obama condemned himself (and a number of human embryos to be determined at a later date) on March 9 when he signed an executive order reversing the Bush administration's restrictions on federal funding of stem cell research.

President Obama went to hell not with the stroke of a pen, but with the cluck of a tongue. His executive order was an error. His statement at the executive order signing ceremony was a mortal error: "In recent years, when it comes to stem cell research, rather than furthering discovery, our government has forced what I believe is a false choice between sound science and moral values."

A false choice is no choice at all--Tweedledee/Tweedledum, Chevy Suburban/GMC Yukon XL, Joe Biden/Triumph the Insult Comic Dog. Is there really no difference "between sound science and moral values"?

...

A false choice means there's no choosing. The president of the United States tells us that sound science and moral values are united, in bed together. As many a coed has been assured, "Let's just get naked under the covers, we don't have to make love." Or, as the president puts it, "Many thoughtful and decent people are conflicted about, or strongly oppose this research. And I understand their concerns, and I believe that we must respect their point of view."

Mr. President, sir, if this is your respect, I'd rather have your contempt or your waistline or something other than what you're giving me here. The more so because in the next sentence you say,

But after much discussion, debate and reflection, the proper course has become clear. The majority of Americans--from across the political spectrum, and of all backgrounds and beliefs--have come to a consensus that we should pursue this research.

Mr. President, you're lying. There is no consensus. And you are not only wrong about the relationship between facts and morals, you are wrong about the facts of democracy. In America we have a process called voting--I seem to remember you were once very interested in it. We the citizens determine whether and how to spend the proceeds of taxation, which we alone are empowered to impose upon ourselves through our elected representatives in Congress, not the White House. If you want to kill little, bitty babies, get Congress to pass a law to kill little, bitty babies, if you can. I'm not going to bother arguing with you about whether it's wrong. Surely you too gazed at the sonogram screen and saw a thumb-sized daughter tumbling in the womb, having the time of her life. And a short life it will be, in a Petri dish. But we've already established that you don't know wrong from right.

Think I Like Him Better When He was just A-Roid

what the--?

why would anyone in their right mind pose for this pic? Dude, you're the most vilified man in baseball (well, after Bonds and Selig), the poster-boy for what's wrong with the sport right now...and you do this? How's this help with the reputation for being "me-first"? Gah!

As Peter Abraham says:

(Seriously, does anybody get worse advice than this guy? Anybody? What do you figure would happen if a photographer asked Tiger Woods to kiss himself in a mirror? There would be a two-iron wrapped around his neck. Alex’s ability to continually do and say strange things is amazing. He’s the Cal Ripken of bad decisions.)

Programming Note: am scheduling this to post late so I don't crowd off the other stuff I've written today...

29 and not really counting

Happy Birthday to TLomL.

As fair art thou, my bonie lass,
So deep in luve am I;
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a' the seas gang dry.

Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi' the sun;
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o' life shall run.

Happy Maewyn Succat Day!

The Little Sleep

Paul Tremblay's debut novel, The Little Sleep, not only sports a eye-catching title, but a premise that's just as intriguing.

Obviously, the title's supposed to get the reader thinking of noir classic, The Big Sleep by Raymond Chandler--so one expects the lone-wolf, tougher than nails, sardonically witty gumshoe typified by Philip Marlowe. But Tremblay's protagonist, Mark Genevich, has one challenge his predecessors in the genre doesn't have...he's a narcoleptic. So he's falling asleep, hallucinating and losing control of his body and the most inconvenient times (for Genevich, anyway...the occasionally seem a convenient deus ex machina to get Tremblay out of a scene).

Initially, the book didn't do much for me--had a hard time caring for Genevich or his problem, his client, and the early chapters seemed a little too erratic. But I hung in there, and eventually, Genevich explains his disorder enough that you can accept the bouncing-around nature of the first chapters. I'm still not sure how sympathetic Tremblay ever makes him, but you do at least start to want him to figure out what's going on--which is close enough.

I remember when I started working the graveyard shift (I guess 3^rd shift is the term we're supposed to use now), I had a lot of days where I couldn't be sure that I wouldn't fall asleep w/o warning--in a theater, during a slow after-dinner conversation, on the road(!)--and I recognized the embarrassment, anger and confusion Genevich displayed. No matter what precautions he took, the very real danger of waking in a different place or his body not acting like he intended always loomed large. I'm assuming Tremblay has no first-hand knowledge of the disorder, but he sure acts like he does.

Genevich's path to solving this particular case follows many of the typical hardboiled paths, but he cannot travel those paths like his forefathers because of his disorder. Unlike with Monk, Genvich's problem is never fodder for humor--unlike Monk's OCD, which would've been very easy, and probably very entertaining. Tremblay sticks to the high road, however, resulting in a deeper, probably more satisfyingk, read.

Checkin' In

Kletois pointed out that I haven't said anything here about Burn Notice's second season finale. I really should, but want to watch it one more time first--so hopefully next week. In the second season, particularly the last batch of 5 episodes they just ran, Burn Notice stopped being a fun summer cable show, and transformed itself into something else. So, stay tuned for that.

In other PAeLiI news, it did my heart good to hear a professional humorist tell me that the Beeker video was the funniest thing he'd seen all year. Sure, I didn't have anything to do with the making of the video, just posting it...still, take what good reviews you can, right? Eddie watched Dear Zachary, his reaction was fitting and commensurate: "man.. .just finished watching one of the most amazing movies ever...i'm going to pop Hobs in the head when I see him."

Honestly not that sure why things have been so light here lately, just generally out of creativity, imagination, energy, inspiration, and probably a few other things. Am going to try to get things moving along in the next week or so ,my brain seems to work better when this is getting regular updates.

oh yeah, Happy Pi Day!

When Checking Your Email is Fun

Dr. White has talked about how much fun it is to open his email and find a message from Angelz, I'm starting to know the feeling.

When I opened Thunderbird tonight, there were some semi-important messages and 2 from Micah. So, of course, I opened Micah's. Up above you can see the results. Looking more and more like a professional blog 'round here...now if only the posts and the numbers matched the look.

eh, maybe one day....

funny AND you don't have to put up with Henry van Dyke's lyrics

Rachel Getting Married

I'm a little over halfway through this stunning film and feel compelled to say a few things.

• Anne Hathaway really can act. I thoroughly blown-away by her performance. She absolutely deserved the nominations and awards she got for this.
• Casting Rosemarie DeWitt as her sister was inspired. Always liked DeWitt and am so glad she got to shine in this as well (a few nominations could've been thrown at her, too).
• This has got to rank up with Silence of the Lambs as Jonathan Demme's best--in some ways surpassing it. During the family fights/arugments, I feel like I'm a guest stuck in an uncomfortable situation while people are fighting around me. The wedding rehearsal and the dinner...it might as well be documentary footage, it really feels genuine.

I'll rescind this post if it falls apart, but I just can't see that happening. Do yourself a favor and grab this one.

Belgium, Belgium, Belgium! (sorry for the profanity)

Not sure why I've let this layer of dust accumulate over things lately, meant to post a thing or two last week, but things got away from me I guess.

Nothing personal, I assure you--well, most of you anyway.

So what got me riled up enough to break my silence?

This monstrosity:

That's right, author Eoin Colfer has been commissioned to write the sixth volume of Douglas Adams' Hitchhiker's Guide trilogy.

SciFi Wire reports:

And Another Thing..., which will be released Oct. 12 to coincide with the 30th anniversary of the publication of the first book in the series by the late Douglas Adams, is a sequel commissioned by the publisher from Eoin Colfer. Colfer is the author of the best-selling Artemis Fowl series.

While Penguin will publish the latest book, Pan Macmillan, which was Adams' paperback publisher, will repackage his backlist, adding new introductions to the books, which will be released monthly leading up to the release of the new title.

Why, oh why, is this being done? Was the world begging for a follow-up to Mostly Harmless? Did another story just need to be told? NO!

Did Adams' leave notes, instructions for another? No.

Does Arthur Dent really need to get kicked around some more? No.

Wouldn't it be easier to insult the Douglas Adams' memory by digging up his bones and throwing rocks at them? Or you could just put out the recent movie on Blu-Ray, that'd do it, too.

This is wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong. A travesty. A disgrace. A literary crime.

Oh, who am I kidding? I'll be there on 10/21, cash in hand, just waiting for the book--probably with baited breath. Just hope it'll be slightly better than a collection of poetry by Paula Nancy Millstone Jennings of Greenbridge, Essex, England.

Five by Five

As is my custom 'round here, it's time to note the anniversary of another birthday (and, whenever possible, to exercise geekiness in a post title). It's Arnold's turn today.

As you may have guessed, he's 5 today. Much to TLomL's consternation, the toddler's all gone, only a little boy remains (very little, in stature). He's alternately the quietest and loudest, the gentlest and the most violent, sweetest and angriest, healthiest and sickest of our group. His best friend is the Princess, and Samwise is clearly his hero (whom he emulates as much as possible).

He's already faced more challenges than most kids twice his age, and on the whole, done so with aplomb. The rest of the time, he's bringing joy to his family. Not a bad little way to live thus far, I pray it continues.

Happy birthday, bud.

Worth a shot...

In honor of the first birthday of his blog, A Boomer in the Pew (along with Crossway), is giving away a Calfskin ESV. And all I have to do to enter is talk about how nice a calfskin covered Bible would be (if you've ever felt calfskin you know, if you haven't...well, go cop a feel somewhere) and throw up a link. Then I have to go tell the Boomer about it. So, I'm about 70% done now.

Might as well go enter yourself, assuming you like the ESV (or want to win it and give it to me).

Leverage - Season 1 & a hint of 2

Caught the Leverage finale ("The Second David Job") last night--dynamite. I thought "The First David Job" was a smidge better, but it didn't have to wrap so many things up as the finale did (the story as well as the season), so it had heavier lifting to do.

For those who didn't watch it--grab it on DVD or when TNT inevitably reruns it (likely in a marathon) before Season 2. It's a fun caper show, with a cast that'll really grow on you. The first season had some ups and downs in quality, but as the shows progressed and the characters/behind the scenes types figured things out it really gelled in a very satisfactory way.

Season 1 would've been far less uneven (IMHO) if it had aired in the intended order. Over at Kung Fu Monkey (where Leverage writer John Rogers blogs), they have the proper order listed and some comments about TNT's choices.

iFMagazine has an exclusive on Leverage Season 2 that every fan should see:

Why , oh Why, Did I Rent This?

I feel like I just got kicked in the gut. No, that would feel better.

I just finished watching Dear Zachary: A Letter to a Son About His Father, an unbelievably moving documentary/tribute to a young man.

In 2001, Dr. Andrew Bagby was murdered at the age of 28. Soon thereafter, the prime suspect (his ex-girlfriend) moves back to Canada and announces she's pregnant with his child. Childhood friend and filmmaker, Kurt Kuenne, begins compiling video interviews with Bagby's friends, coworkers, family, etc. to collect stories about him to give to his son so he can have an idea what a great guy he was. From the portions of the interviews that make the final film, Bagby seems like a great guy, well-loved by many.

But of course, it's not that simple (or the home movies wouldn't have made their way to any of the film festivals this won awards at). Shirley Turner, the expectant mother, is released on bail during the months and months of delays in her extradition hearings. As soon as that happens, Bagby's parents, David and Kate, move from California to Newfoundland so they can be involved in their grandson's life, and hopefully get some sort of custody. The movie then becomes both a tribute to his father, and the chronicling of his grandparent's efforts to protect the son from his mother.

Turner is incarcerated for a few months, during which the Bagby's move is briefly rewarded until Turner's incarceration is successfully appealed. Months and months of ups and downs go by and the film documents the grandparents attempts to care for and interact with Zachary and the increasingly unstable antics of Turner.

Kuenne doesn't try to be objective, he's clearly pulling for the parents of his friend and sees Turner as the enemy (as he should given the preponderance of the evidence). He makes his case obviously, thoroughly and successfully. No one can watch this film and think of David and Kate as anything but heroes and Turner as anything but vile (at best).

Some say Kuenne manipulates the audience, I don't think so--but he does tug at the emotions--the way a skillful rhetorician would. Towards the end he goes beyond tugging--he bludgeons, but that's not a criticism, he does it well, and it's well-deserved. Throughout the film we see genuine emotion--people loved Bagly, his parents and his son, and they had clearly strong feelings toward Turner as well. As the film ends, the genuine emotions are shown at their rawest--love, anguish, rage, despair. The tears flow freely at this point--from both those on screen and the audience (so I read...and, yeah, experienced). Kuenne's editing--as much as anything else--shows us his raw emotions as well as his interviewees'.

A couple reviewers I read said something important--yeah, it's a documentary; yeah, the events are well reported--but stay away from google, don't read up on it--let Kuenne tell the story. It will affect you in ways you can't see coming.

It should be remembered that this was originally intended as a home movie--not an independent flick that was denied Oscar props, the video quality, the cinematography--everything, is low quality. But this movie tells a story, and provokes a reaction in a way that the slickest productions can't. It's an experience I won't soon forget. I started this post right after I watched it, and I didn't have time to finish until now--8+ hrs later, and I'm still reeling from it.

In Praise of the Fifth Amendment

Entertaining and Educational (and a little scary)

Sean Chercover, gumshoe turned crime novelist recently posted a couple of great videos over at The Outfit about why you should never talk to the police.

In the first, Regent Law professor James Duane lays out the case for why you should never, under any circumstances, submit to police questioning without your lawyer present. Especially if you are innocent. Both funny and enlightening, and I promise this video is worth watching. In the second video, Officer George Bruch of the Virginia Beach PD gets "equal time" to offer his perspective. Bruch's talk is equally fascinating, and full of great stuff to use in your fiction.

If you've got 48 minutes to spare, watch these vids. If you don't have 48 minutes to spare, find them. Yes, the videos will spark brilliant ideas for your fiction. But more than that, they could someday save your freedom.

Here they are.
Video 1:

Video 2:

(I should add, that the other videos on that post are well worth the time)

Thought for the Lord's Day - #36

in honor of Juliette's baptism this morning:

In brief, a participation of the seal of the covenant is a spiritual blessing. This the seed of believers was once solemnly invested in by God himself This privilege he hath nowhere revoked, though he hath changed the outward sign; nor hath he granted unto our children any privilege or mercy in lieu of it now under the gospel, when all grace and privileges are enlarged to the utmost. His covenant promises concerning them, which are multiplied, were confirmed by Christ as a true messenger and minister; he gives the grace of baptism unto many of them, especially those that die in their infancy, owns children to belong unto his kingdom, esteems them disciples, appoints households to be baptized without exception. And who shall now rise up, and withhold water from them? … The end of [Christ’s] message and of his coming was, that those to whom he was sent might be ‘blessed with faithful Abraham,’ or that ‘the blessing of Abraham,’ promised in the covenant, ‘might come upon them’ (Gal. 3:9, 14). To deny this, overthrows the whole relation between the old testament and the new, the veracity of God in his promises, and all the properties of the covenant of grace … (II Sam. 23:5)

- John Owen

Thought for the Lord's Day - #35

Everything lacking in us is given to us by Christ; everything sinful in us is imputed to Christ; and all judgment merited by us is borne by Christ.

- Sinclair Ferguson,
summing up the theology of Calvin

"I Need a Beach Front Condo"

some shots from a protest to the porkulus billlaw in Mesa, AZ.

Fierce

The Princess tried on her gi for me this morning:

sorry, the picture's a little dark and grainy.

Recommended Reads

I don't know if anyone actually reads any of these posts/articles when I do one of these posts, but I like to think some one does. And it makes me feel like I'm providing a small service to my readers--particularly on days like today when I can't really come up with much, my brain's too busy mulling over the implications to that huge info-dump that the writers of Battlestar subjected us to and thinking about Whedon's destined-to-be-short-lived Dollhouse.*

Anyway, some of the more thought-provoking reads of the three-day weekend:

• from CNN, Bob Greene asks--and answers--a good question:

  But all the games, in all the seasons, in all the big-time sports leagues -- what is the real reason we keep on watching?
  
  You might think that we'd finally grow weary of caring, with headlines about Alex Rodriguez and Barry Bonds, with the sports pages often reading like the business pages (contract disputes and stadium bond-issue negotiations and salary arbitration), with police-blotter details sometimes pushing aside the box scores.
  
  Why do we watch?

• from The Outfit, Country Music: Why the music we love to hate should get more respect from storytellers, columnist Graham Verdon posits:

  Country music is clearly the ugly stepchild in the family of popular music. But the truth is, for those working to achieve mastery in the craft of storytelling, country songwriters are close cousins.

• Lastly, the good people over at Respect Jeter's Gangster, give the definitive (and chuckle-worthy) response to the burning question:Where Will Joba Find His Place?

* Yeah, that was a dare. Prove me wrong, FOX. Prove me wrong, America. Please.

Probably the Strangest Post I've Typed

Not because of content, mind you...just the way it feels to type it.

Back in '95 a day before Windows 95 was released, I bought a new-fangled MS Natural Keyboard. It set me back a pretty penny, as I recall--I want to say it was $80+, but I might have only been $50+. Still, a ridiculous price for a keyboard--if it wasn't for the ergonomic shape, etc.--and it was worth every penny, saved me a lot. That's been my desktop keyboard since then. For a short time in '99, when my desktop was out of commission, I even took it to work.

But it was showing it's age, far too many food/beverage stains, keys I could no longer read, that years-out-of-date cream color...besides, it was 13 years old for cryin' out loud! So a few months ago, I started looking around for a replacement. But I was picky--it's not like I needed a new one. And I'd paid so much for the last one, and a million other excuses that seem really silly, but I couldn't bring myself to replace it. I swear, I wasn't getting sentimental about a keyboard.

'Til this weekend, when TLomL bought me a new keyboard. It's ergonomically curved, but not a split keyboard. Very nice. But it's very different. This new guy has thinner, lighter keys--more laptop like; a space bar that's a little too lightweight (and loose)--for reasons I'm sure Freud could have a hay-day with, I pound spacebars, so this is something I notice. I'm not complaining, I've just observed a few differences a lot in the few hours it's been since I plugged it into my USB port. It even has the non-QWERTY keys to navigate websites, pull up programs, control my volume and whatnot. Welcome to the late-90's, eh?

Writing for many of us is a tactile experience--which is why some still use manual typewriters, or insist on a certain type of notepad and pen, or whatever. I've typed I don't know how many stories, papers, essays, articles, sermons, lessons, emails, blogposts, website codes, and 1 novel on that old one. Sure, I've had 2 laptops, and have used other people's computers--but the overwhelming bulk of my composing had been on the desktop. Particularly when I had to think a lot about what I was writing--the feel of the keys, the way I hold my hands and whatnot, helped get me into "that place" where the words would come.

This very minor transition (in one sense) is going take a lot of getting used to. Who knows what new habits I'll pick up with this thing (maybe stop abusing spacebars).

Thought for the Lord's Day - #34

CHRIST ALONE IN ALL THE CLAUSES OF THE CREED
We see that our whole salvation and all its parts are comprehended in Christ. We should therefore take care not to derive the least portion of it from anywhere else. If we seek salvation, we are taught by the very name of Jesus that it is "of him". If we seek any other gifts of the Spirit, they will be found in his anointing. If we seek strength, it lies in his dominion; if purity, in his conception; if gentleness, it appears in his birth. For by his birth he was made like us in all respects that he might learn to feel our pain. If we seek redemption, it lies in his passion; if acquittal, in his condemnation; if remission of the curse, in his cross; if satisfaction, in his sacrifice; if purification, in his blood; if reconciliation, in his descent into hell; if mortification of the flesh, in his tomb; if newness of life, in his resurrection; if immortality, in the same; if inheritance of the Heavenly Kingdom, in his entrance into heaven; if protection, if security, if abundant supply of all blessings, in his Kingdom; if untroubled expectation of judgment, in the power given to him to judge. In short, since rich store of every kind of good abounds in him, let us drink our fill from this fountain, and from no other. Some men, not content with him alone, are borne hither and thither from one hope to another; even if they concern themselves chiefly with him, they nevertheless stray from the right way in turning some part of their thinking in another direction. Yet such distrust cannot creep in where men have once for all truly known the abundance of his blessings.

- John Calvin

One of My Best Days - Semi-Repost

I tried to come up with a new post in commemoration of the day, but honestly, couldn't come up with much else to say, so tagged on a new rambling intro, did a mild edit and here ya go.

A couple of days ago, an old college friend mentioned his wife's birthday in his Facebook status. It made me remember--for the first time in years--the four of us going to dinner in celebration of her birthday, and there was some sort of movie night at my friend's apartment afterwards. Neither the movies or the crowd were really my thing, and TLomL was thinking the same thing (or was just going along with my quirks as she was so willing to do then [still a lot more indulgent regarding them than she could be, I should add]). So we politely excused ourselves and took a walk around campus before I drove her home. I can't tell you what it was then, but something happened that night that made me know I was going to propose soon. She was the right woman for me ("At that moment I knew, I knew the way you know about a good melon.")

Later that night my former roomate, then neighbor, future best man and I were talking, and I basically was looking for him to talk me out of it--this was a frequent strategy of mine, it usually worked. If he couldn't talk me out of something, I was on the right track. He didn't even bother to try. After I'd laid out my case, he just laughed and said, "It's about time you decided this, I've known for weeks she was perfect for you."

So much for that idea. Fast-forward three days:

Remember that scene in City Slickers where Mitch, Phil, and Ed are riding along talking about their Best Days? You ever played that? Had a lot of insomnia lately, and have been doing that while staring at the ceiling. Come up with a list of nominees, not sure which is #1. This is the 13th Anniversary of a strong contender for the title.

I've given abbreviated versions of the tale before (here and here). But a little more detail tonight, because I've been thinking about it a lot and have some time to kill. That afternoon I'd been in the dorm computer lab typing out a draft letter to the father of the girl I was courting, asking for her hand. Unbeknownst to me, she came up behind me to surprise me--and surprise me she did! I hadn't been in the workplace much with computers, so my Alt-Tab skills were non-existent, and it took me roughly an eon to get Word minimized. We chatted briefly and the whole time I was thinking, "How much did she read? Of course she read the whole thing. So much for surprise. What is she thinking? What do I do now?" Later she told me she hadn't seen a thing, but in the end, I'm glad I didn't know that ('tho at the time it would've been golden to know).

That train of thought didn't leave me for a couple of hours, I finally give up. Toss out my timeline, borrow a phone card from someone, and after a call to information, have one of the scariest phone conversations of my life with her father. Having secured his approval, I headed up to her place. I remember being very nervous, which sorta goes without saying, I guess. I was pretty confident I'd get a yes, but it was the act of asking that made me worry the most. That, and what it all meant--the weight of the future. But what I would get out of the act--the hand, the love of the woman of my dreams, made it worth it. And the future? Eh, I'd go into it with one of my best friends with me (it wouldn't take long before I dropped the "one of" modifier).

She was sitting on a couch against the wall facing the TV, I was sitting a few feet away on the loveseat-type thing that was the "L" leg off of the other. Wasn't exactly the typical-Hollywood on bended knee type situation, but I figured it was now or never, and set to mustering up confidence, wit, nerves, and everything else. Jeopardy was over, and I asked her if she was doing anything for the next 60-70 years, 'cuz if not, I was hoping she'd marry me. She thankfully said yes, and I honestly don't think I'd known what joy was before that moment.

And then we kissed for the first time. And she played me what I always think of as our song, Alanis' "Head Over Feet"--still think of that moment every time I hear that song. And the rest of the evening was taken up with my all-time favorite activity. Spending time together.

There ya go, one of my Best Days.

Again, that was 13 years ago. Making 47-57 years left. I should've asked for more, 'cuz that's nowhere near enough time to spend with her. The thirteen years since haven't been a bed of roses for sure, been far more lean and bad times then I'd ever wanted. But I've been in the best company possible.

Thanks for saying yes, dear.

Stumbled on to this old scan the other day. This is actually the following Saturday, but it's as close to the day as I have. Not the most flattering pic of me--I'd shaved that day, because she was curious what I looked like sans beard. Think it took 5 seconds for her to tell me to grow it back :) If it weren't for Steinbrenner-esque standards at the McDonald's I worked at, this would've been the last time I'd ever shaved it. But man...look at her.

The Stepsister Scheme by Jim C. Hines

There are really only so many reactions a father can have when, thanks to his young daughter, his home and life are invaded by the Disney Princesses. Through DVDs, toys, costumes, books, clothing these characters can thoroughly infiltrate a family's collective consciousness. A dad can run to such things as home improvement projects, sports, denial, or attempts to turn their daughter into a Tom-boy; but once these girls take the beachhead of your home, they don't give an inch of it back for years.

Jim C. Hines took a different tack--the author of the satirical Jig the Goblin fantasy series started writing. The result "is a cross between the old (pre-Disney) fairy tales and Charlie's Angels."


The book opens with one of Cinderella's (Danielle) stepsisters trying to assassinate the new princess a few months after the whole glass slipper incident. Danielle, some of her animal friends and another princess in disguise put a stop to that, but discover that Danielle's husband has been kidnapped. Thankfully, the Queen is the head of a covert operations team (or the fairy tale equivalent thereof) made up of princesses who rarely qualify as damsels in distress.

The book works pretty well as a light, fun fantasy adventure. When you throw in Hines' reworking of the original fairy tales--well, that's icing on the cake (thick, rich and creamy icing). Happily ever after isn't everything we tend to think it is.

"Are all the tales like this?" Danielle asked. "Did Jack Giantslayer fall into despair and poverty? Was Red Riding Hood murdered by wolves seeking revenge for the death of their kin?"

Talia snorted. "No, Red survived. But that kind of thing changes a woman."

"Changes her how?"

"The Lady of the Red Hood is one of the most feared assassins this side of Akenkar."

Looking forward to the next two installments of this series.

Not your Typical Baseball Cards

Jane Heller, Yankee She-Fan extraordinaire, had a great column in the New York Times this weekend--funny, displaying Yankeephilia I cannot yet touch, and offers nothing but hope for the fans.

With only two weeks to go until spring training, I was not about to wait for the conventional prognosticators to weigh in. I wanted answers. Fast. So I had a tarot card reading with Patricia Diorio, a spiritual coach who has a television show in California.

"I’m not a fortune teller," she said when I called for an appointment. She also admitted that she did not follow baseball and had never heard of Derek Jeter. "But I will tell you, based on the cards you pick, what I expect to occur."

Go ahead. Laugh. Dismiss tarot cards as a mere superstition. But I am a baseball fan. Superstition is my middle name. I have my lucky "Property of New York Yankees" T-shirt that is ripped and faded and belongs in the trash. I have my lucky black Yankees cap that my friend Judith bought for me, the one with the rhinestone-studded NY. I even have my lucky turkey burgers that my husband throws on the grill for dinner whenever I’m panicking during a game, which is always. Who am I to rule out anything?

Another Week Started

another weekend full of blogging I neglected to do.

This weekend was also Daddy-Daughter Date Night at the local rec center, which we didn't attend due to a few too many sick people at home. So, now I have to come up with something to do with her in 2 weeks to make up for that. Sadly, I have no idea what we can do...looking through newspapers, websites, etc...can find nothing for a dad and his Princess to do (found a couple of activities for the others, tho).

Still plugging through Torre's book--it's an easy, enjoyable read, and I feel like I could knock it off in one sitting--but I can't get myself to read more than 1/2-1 chapter at a time. Not sure why. Anyway, so far even with the players that have been shown in a critical light, there's a balanced, complimentary tone. No balance so far with the Saints: Cone, Rivera, Jeter, and O'Neil. Heck, so far even Boss Steinbrenner's looking pretty good.

Thought for the Lord's Day - #33

On the other hand, many who glory in the cross of Christ and do not withdraw from that same way, though ignorant of those points which are so subtlely debated, because not one little one perishes for whom He died, attain to that same eternity, truth, charity, that is, to a fixed, sure, and complete happiness where all things are clear to those who remain faithful, who see, and who love.

- Augustine
Letters, 169.
Addressed to Evodius (end of 415 AD)

Random Music Thoughts

I was going to call this Notes on Music or something, but that's just too cute....

Don't have enough to say about any of these for a real post, so just a few scattered thoughts about music I'm playing far too much lately (especially for The Offspring's tastes).

• Joe Pug is the son that Dylan never had (which would make more sense if Dylan didn't have four sons). His Hymn 101, in particular, is one of those songs that justifies the existence of American pop music more.
• Fiction Family marketed their debut album perfectly, even if it reeks of bait 'n switch. Jon Foreman of Switchfoot and Sean Watkins of Nickel Creek gave away copies of their first single, "When She's Near" for a few weeks before the album's release. It was a nice, catchy pop song that served as a great advertisement for a CD that was full of good, but not at all catchy songs. Most of the time I listen to it, it's out of a desire to justify the purchase, not because I want to hear it.
• That is not at all the case with Marian Call's Got to Fly. This tribute to Battlestar Galactica, Firefly/Serenity and Geek-hood in general is something even the non-geek can appreciate. Her brand of "funky indie alt-folk", great vocals and lyrics is the perfect music to read by. It's impossible not to feel like you're in a coffee bar somewhere while listening to her. The fact that you get songs like "It's Good to Have Jayne on Your Side" or references to Yo-Saf-Bridge is just icing on the cake.
• I caught a couple of episodes of Can You Duet? last year, and while I never got invested enough to tune in regularly, it was easy to tell early on that Joey + Rory were the most talented duo in the batch, and yet didn't have a shot at winning (see Elliott Yamin). Months later, I haven't heard a peep from the winners, but I can't stop playing Joey + Rory's The Life of a Song.
• And after watching Scrubs this week, I have to include this little webisode featuring Kate Micucci (of Garfunkel and Oates)--eyes like that belong on an anime heroine, not a ukulele player. Good stuff.
  

Attack of the Spoilers

So, the instant I heard that Joe Torre had a book coming out about his time with the Yankees, I ordered it (even if he technically wrote nothing). Now I'm wondering if I wasted my money. The book comes out today, and it's already been making news thanks to a copy that a couple of NY journalists got their hands on a week or so early.

The leaked portion of the book couldn't be more than a few paragraphs, and yet hours of TV/radio time, gallons of ink, GB of internet traffic has been devoted to it. Now that the book is out, and we'll get more than an isolated comment about A-Rod or a description of Cashman's treatment of Torre toward the end. I can't imagine that we'll see less reporting.

Now, I'll try to avoid as much of that as I can, but it won't be enough. If I'm not careful, I'll end up reading/hearing the whole book before my copy arrives on Thursday, and I really won't have time to dig in to it until Saturday.

I understand our media culture is all about getting the story out before anyone else. But when it comes getting the details of a book--memoir or best-selling novel (how many leaks about the ending of Deathly Hallows were there?)--movie, TV series finale, etc. what's the rush? Can't we wait for the intended audience to get a crack at it before rushing to print? What's the benefit to spilling the details/ending/spoilers?

Internet fan sites and whatnot have the decency to warn readers about spoilers, so we can avoid them. Can't legitimate news groups (or reasonable facsimiles thereof) do the same?

just a little griping, I guess.

It Can't be Monday already!

Thursday and Friday I could tell I was coming down with a cold, and thankfully wouldn't miss/be tempted to miss work because of the impending weekend. But, didn't realize how sick I apparently was. I was maybe awake 6 of the 24 hours following my shift ending (no more than 2 consecutively), and slept most of Sunday away, too.

Not that I'd planned on doing a lot over the weekend--that's what they're for, after all. But, spent far too much time looking at the back of my eyelids. Not enough time doing the fun stuff.

And now it's Monday again, and back to the battle.

I'm a Ticking Time-Bomb

or I was anyway. I knew my parents made a bad call when they filled out that birth certificate!

According to LiveScience:

Boys in the United States with common names like Michael and David are less likely to commit crimes than those named Ernest or Ivan.

David E. Kalist and Daniel Y. Lee of Shippensburg University in Pennsylvania compared the first names of male juvenile delinquents to the first names of male juveniles in the population. The researchers constructed a popularity-name index (PNI) for each name. For example, the PNI for Michael is 100, the most frequently given name during the period. The PNI for David is 50, a name given half as frequently as Michael. The PNI is approximately 1 for names such as Alec, Ernest, Ivan, Kareem, and Malcolm.

Results show that, regardless of race, juveniles with unpopular names are more likely to engage in criminal activity. The least popular names were associated with juvenile delinquency among both blacks and whites.

Something that was drummed into me ad infinitum in my psychology and statistics classes was the maxim "correlation does not imply causation,"--something a science news service and its writers I'm sure know. But, the corollary, "correlation makes for more sensational headlines" trumps that. So buried in paragraph 5 we are told:

While the names are likely not the cause of crime, the researchers argue that "they are connected to factors that increase the tendency to commit crime, such as a disadvantaged home environment, residence in a county with low socioeconomic status, and households run by one parent."

"Also, adolescents with unpopular names may be more prone to crime because they are treated differently by their peers, making it more difficult for them to form relationships," according to a statement released by the journal's publisher. "Juveniles with unpopular names may also act out because they consciously or unconsciously dislike their names."

The scary part of this study is:

The findings could help officials " identify individuals at high risk of committing or recommitting crime, leading to more effective and targeted intervention programs," the authors conclude.

Racial profiling is out, but appellation profiling is a good move? (suddenly, Ann Coulter's obsession with a certain president's middle name isn't so crazy)

Bones: Double Trouble in the Panhandle

Catching up on last week's Bones...

I know Bones isn't supposed to be the grittiest of the forensic crime fighting shows, while not being as light as most USA fare. But sometimes they just go too far. "Double Trouble in the Panhandle" is probably the lowest point yet. Bones & Booth go undercover in a circus as a knife-throwing act? Come on, people. Try a little bit. I'm not done yet, so maybe they'll pull something good out of this, but I don't see it happening, beyond some good stuff with Sweets.

Writer Lyla Oliver is certainly capable of better--her previous two Bones episodes were pretty good--definitely having none of the silliness in this episode, I particularly liked "The Priest in the Churchyard."

Should add that it was nice to see The Practice's George Vogelman again.

Quiet Night Out

TLomL and I haven't had a night out in months--we had an afternoon out in December, though, so that almost counts. More out of determination to rectify that than a real desire to do something, we made arrangements for last night. Yesterday, we'd talked ourselves out of our planned activity due to total lack of interest and Boise being too far to travel for something we had half-hearted interest in at best.

It's strange, we used to drive there a few times a week--and now when we're living closer to the interstate than ever, it's a major undertaking. Seriously, when we lived in Boise it took us almost as much time to get to any of the major points of interest there as it would now.

Anywho, we'd already had childcare arranged (the greatest hurdle for us to overcome), so we felt we'd better do something. The best we could come up with was going to a chain restaurant we frequently go to anyway. But we changed it up quite dramatically: no kids, and instead of entrées, we had shared a couple of appetizers. How's that for wild?

It took practically no time at all to realize we had nothing to talk about beyond our food and drink--the quality of fried mozzarella differing so much from eatery to eatery. We maybe spent five sentences talking about the kids' schooling, that's all I can remember that didn't involve what we were consuming. We found ourselves ready to return home within an hour (would've been sooner, but our server clearly realized she wasn't getting much of a tip from us and paid us due attention), but that didn't seem right, so we went to a chain coffee shop, had a specialty drink and shared a brownie (which provided a bit more conversation, "hmmm, you can taste the espresso in this," "sure can, and it's chewy, too.") Naturally, their closing time was fifteen minutes after we arrived. So we were probably away from home almost 2 hours in the end.

As strange as it sounds, it really was a very nice time. It's probably dull to read about, certainly doesn't seem terribly fun on the surface, just a couple of hours of light snacking and saying uninteresting things about good, but wholly unremarkable food. And that's one way to look at it.

Another way to look at it is that I got to spend a couple of hours with my favorite person in the world, and it doesn't get better than that.

Couldn't have put it better myself

And yet Coca-Cola BlāK is gone. . . Why is it that the truly momentous inventions are ignored by the public, while trifles like cell phones, the Internet, and artificial insulin are treated like miracles of science?

- Shawn Spencer
(from A Mind is a Terrible Thing
to Read by William Rabkin)

Not for the Weak of Heart

From The Mail Online:

The largest kidney stones most doctors ever get to see is the size of a golf ball.

So surgeons in Hungary were taken aback when they removed a stone the size of a coconut from a man earlier today.

Sandor Sarkadi underwent an abdominal operation in Debrecen, 150 miles east of Budapest, after doctors discovered he had a kidney stone inside him that was 17 centimetres in diameter.

Yeah, 17 cm in diameter, 2.48 lbs.

Click the link to see photos, X-Rays of the thing. I honestly do not know if I've ever felt sorrier for anyone than I do that Hungarian. Feeling faint just thinking about it.

If Movie Posters were Honest

Since he has this tendency to only post things of merit and substance, am reasonably sure that Micah won't post this link. I, however, being dedicated to all things media, especially if it makes me laugh, will.

From The Holy Taco (strange name, I know), If Movie Posters Were Honest. Start the end of your work week with a laugh.

(unless you're kletois, and have already started your weekend)

Runnin' with the Big Dogs

The boys' sensei recently opened the door for a few new students--younger siblings of some of the others. The Princess jumped at the chance (Arnold would've too, but the sensei decided to wait a few months with him), tonight was her first class.

She was supposed to start in February, but Tuesday night the sensei gave her the green light. To say she was excited was a bit of an understatement. She'd been counting down the days and hours since she got the go-ahead.

Reportedly, she did great--the months of sitting on the sidelines had prepared her, good to see she was paying attention. I'm really looking forward to her getting some more time in and getting proficient. Especially if she picks up the aggression I saw in the girls at the tournament--would be good for both her and her brothers if she could go toe to toe with them.

The boys, meanwhile, are progressing well, and are even considering competing soon (they'll get slaughtered, but will learn from it--and I think they know that).

I Counted a Few Gestating Chicks

Boy, was I ever wrong when I said that I'd put my streak of bad movies behind me. Really wrong.

Last night, I put on hold watching the last three episodes of Damages, Season 1 to watch Repo! The Genetic Opera.

I can't quite come up with a way to summarize this thing, so I'll just copy and paste the blurb Netflix gives it:

In the near future, a biotech company saves mankind with synthetic replacements for failed organs. But those who default on their new liver or heart are subject to repossession. Shilo (Alexa Vega) navigates this dystopia while searching for a cure for her rare illness. Her odyssey is set to a number of catchy songs in this tongue-in-cheek opera. Paris Hilton, Paul Sorvino, Anthony Head and Sarah Brightman round out the deliciously diverse cast.

So why'd I grab that? Well, the premise could work in a SF flick if done right, I hadn't seen Sorvino in a dog's age, I always like Anthony Head, and I'll admit I wanted to see how bad the Hilton train-wreck would be. Essentially, it was quirky enough that I figured there was a good chance it'd work.

Just ask the Philadelphia Eagles, a good chance is no guarantee.

The songs were catchy (supposedly a record 64 were composed for the movie), some of the lyrics weren't horrible, most of the singing was good. The story was paint-by-numbers, the characters were cartoons (and not in a good way), and...words are failing me--look at the cast, look at the premise and think gothic rock opera. What more really do I have to say? Oh yeah, I could say that the director was the same, um, individual that brought us the first 3 Saw sequels.

Then again, it wasn't Napoleon Dynamite. Shouldn't complain too much.

Feelin' a little Icky

On this historic day (which would be historic no matter who won--a fact that eludes so many), Challies links to the lyrics of Steven Curtis Chapman's song, "Goodbye Mr. President."

Haven't heard the song, and honestly, will do what I can to avoid hearing it. Can't quite put my finger on it, but something about the song just made me feel kinda nauseous.

A Football Score, but a Different Game

My niece is in her last year of Rec Basketball--on the verge of what will probably be a decent Junior High/High School career (hopefully she'll get good enough to grease the rails towards higher education). Anyway, Saturday was the first game of the season--and somehow, the first game I've attended, despite her doing this for 5 previous years.

Anyway, I had to keep reminding myself this was their first game--it was a disaster. They were clearly rusty (except for the very few who were playing their first game), very few seemed to understand the game at all--and most of them didn't understand much. Of the 20 or so girls out there, I'd say 1 really knew her stuff (not my niece, for the record), and 4 looked like they'd be a real threat once they got warmed up. The game was 2-2 at the half, (I wasn't sure at that point if I was watching basketball or soccer) 12-8 at the end.

The refs, I should add, were wholly professional--they acted just like NBA level officials--clearly in the bag for the home team.

I'm really looking forward to returning at the end of the season to see how much they've improved--I have moderately high hopes.

But what really struck me was the level of play--and I'm not trying to pick on these girls. Most of them are in their sixth year. Contrast what I saw to a Little League game of baseball--opening of the season or not, you're just not going to find that level of...clumsiness and cluelessness much beyond T-ball. Especially not in people with 5 years under their belt.

Is basketball so different from baseball? What is it about the two sports (I'm really only a casual observer of one) that gives these kind of results?

There's a kid who won't be working for Disney anymore...

2009 has not been my year for movies--am hitting about 50/50 on quality (normally, I'd rate about 10-15% of the movies I watch as bad). The bad movies have been really bad (DeNiro and Pacino should have to return their Oscars after Righteous Kill), and the good movies have been passable.

But all that's going to change now, if The Wackness is an omen. This was a really good movie--poignant, profound, sad, laugh-out-loud funny. Frequently in the same line of dialogue. This is one of those small indie flicks that really deserves a much larger audience than it will ever receive.

I really need to pinpoint the time when Ben Kingsley become the comic genius. He was one of the very few things Cusak et al. got right with War, Inc., he was great in Lucky Number Slevin, and his portrayal of the Polish mob hitman working his way through AA's Twelve Steps in You Kill Me was inspired. This role was just as good--a drug-addicted psychiatrist trading therapy for marijuana from his step-daughter's high school classmate/dealer. I think we backed up the DVD three times to watch him quote the Notorious BIG--although it was the hand gestures that sealed his delivery.

Josh Peck, of Disney Channel's Drake & Josh, impressed me more than I thought he ever could as the dope-peddling high school loser, pining for Olivia Thirlby while dealing with his family problems and getting ready to go to college.

It's the relationship--shrink/client, dealer/client, mentor/mentee, and eventually friends that drives this film. Yes, there are romances, flings, families, but it's about these two relating to each other, learning from each other that makes the film.
Thrilby (Juno's BFF) was almost as impressive--getting the chance to shine outside of Ellen Page's shadow. Mary-Kate Olsen was decent, but the sooner I get the image of her going to second base with Kingsley the better I'll sleep at night. ('going to second base' isn't my phrase, it was Kingsley's character's). Jane Adams was Jane Adams, 'bout the only way I can think of to say that. Her scene with Kingsley was a testimony to what a good actor can do with only their eyes--especially if they're reacting to an actor doing just as well with theirs.

Jonathan Levine's sophomore attempt at direction likely secured him a few more shots, but it's his writing that'll keep bread on his table--great screenplay, I hope he's working on his next.

Fair warning: the depictions of sex and drug use are very explicit, and the discussions of both are as well. Other than that, I give this a wholehearted recommendation.

Exactly what I'd Write if I was Erudite

Terry Teachout's blogpost today, "Forty years with Nero Wolfe" is one of those posts I really wish I could've written.

Give it a read, hopefully Teachout can convince you to pick up Wolfe. Outside The Bible, a handful of Reformed and Puritan writers, Stout's the only author I'd recommend to every person I know w/o a disclaimer or a second thought.

Employee Appreciation

This is a great way to show your employees they're valued.

magine an employer who would shut down his business so his employees could spend a week relaxing on the beach in sunny Costa Rica.

That’s what Howard Olivier, owner of Flying Pie Pizzaria in Boise, is doing. And that means the pies won’t be flying at the two local pizzerias for a week, starting Tuesday.
...
There are 62 people going on the trip, including pizzeria staff, some family and one former employee.
...
Olivier is paying for a week's salary for the employees, some of whom could not afford to take the week off without pay.

Participants will get the opportunity to visit a volcano, ride a zipline through the rainforest canopy or just spend the week laying on the beach near their hotel at Ocotal Beach Resort.

[The marketing director] said the timing for the trip is perfect because January is a slow month for business, and staff members who are college students will be back for the start of classes at Boise State University.

"Our guess is that we’ll be able to make it up in later in the quarter,"

Flying Pie's not the area's best pizza (but it's close), but it's clearly one of the better employers.

Morbid and Creepifying

I'm not one to comment on (or think that much about) the personal lives of celebrities, but the news that Michael C. Hall, TV's Dexter, really affected me.

Why?

Because he got married to Jennifer Campbell, who playes OfficerDetective Debra Morgan, Dexter's foster-sister..

Something about that strikes me as wrong. There's nothing really wrong with it--I'm fully aware of that--and honestly, I'm glad for these two and hope they have a long life together. But, I honestly reflexively gotta give a visceral, emphatic, loud, "ew, EW, EW!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Yeah, this is what we need to spend federal dollars on...

The budget deficit is larger than ever, and our incoming president says it'll stay that way for years (duh). The states are facing the same problems. So obviously we need to make sure our government (at all levels) spending is for important things.

Like college football, apparently.

In November, three US Congressmen (including Idaho's 2nd District, so I can't vote against him) wrote the president-elect, calling for a Justice Dept. investigation into whether the BCS system violates the Sherman Antitrust Act. And now, Utah's Attorney General is investigating the same system for antitrust violations.

College Sports. This is where we need to spend our money? Not, oh, I don't know--bringing the troops home, finding Osama, freeing us from dependency on foreign oil, etc. etc. etc.

Puh-leeeeez.

Back for More of the Study

We had Day 2 of the big pediatric kidney study yesterday (see this and this for last year's). While we cooled our heels waiting for things to get going, Arnold got a little goofy and we captured a bit on video.

As I recall, this is the first time I've posted my own video here, so who knows how it'll work:

Once I'm at work, I'll try to update this post with further details.

The Up and Coming Time Lord

By now, everyone who cares has likely seen the above photo, which the BBC released after it announced the successor to David Tennant, Matt Smith. Frankly, at first glance, the Flock of Seagulls hair, age, oddly rectangular face, and general un-Tennant-ness has left me cold. I'm trying to trust Steven Moffat...he's certainly given us plenty of reason to

But like any self-respecting nerd with too much time on his hands should, I did some research. He doesn't have much of a resume, truth be told. One of his biggest roles, from what I've read was in The Ruby in the Smoke. Through the magic of Netflix I've just watched a lot of that--couldn't watch it all, it was a mess--the fact that I watched 3/4s of it is a testimony to my devotion to Doctor Who. Most of the problems, I'm sure, can be laid at the feet of the writer/director/editor. But I'm also pretty sure that not all of Philip Pullman's literary sins are contained in his His Dark Materials series.

What did I learn about Matt Smith from this experience? A few things:

1. Smith can talk fast.
2. Smith can run.
3. Smith can pull off one of those funny accents that so many people on the BBC tend to display.
4. Smith can interact well with Billie Piper.

Think that covers the basic requirements for the contemporary Doctor Who (although I trust the Piper stuff won't come up once he steps into The Police Box). Now I just have to wait for 2010 to see what he does with it.

Not Ol' Blue

Who needs an official Red Ryder carbine-action 200-shot range model air rifle with a compass in the stock, and this thing which tells time?

When you can have the Crossman StingerS32P shotgun-styled airsoft gun which features short barrel pump-powered shots of up to 350 feet per second?

Note the goggles, no one's going to shoot their eye out.

Losing Just a Little More Will to Live

the state of American Politics 2009:

it's bad enough that we have photos of the President-Elect sans logo and sans shirt on the beach in Hawaii, but this? At the moment, it's the best selling item in Amazon's Office Supplies category (incidentally, sample images from the calendar can be seen at Amazon or NewsMax or other places google can point you to)

with "Auld Lang Syne" playing in the background

Harry: What does this song mean? My whole life, I don't know what this song means. I mean, 'Should old acquaintance be forgot'? Does that mean that we should forget old acquaintances, or does it mean if we happened to forget them, we should remember them, which is not possible because we already forgot?

Sally: Well, maybe it just means that we should remember that we forgot them or something. Anyway, it's about old friends.

Not to be all cynical or anything, but really, what is New Year's Eve/New Year's Day celebration but one more proof that humans will take any excuse to stay up late, wear silly hats and drink? Not that I'm necessarily criticizing any of that--well, maybe some of the hats--I just don't get exactly why we make all the fuss.