The Faulty Analogy Fallacy

I was listening to an episode of a podcast called "Book Club From Hell" some months ago (yes, it's taken me months to make this blog post) about a book titled "The Sigma Male Bible". I gave up on listening to the episode despite my mild interest the topic at hand because there's a bit too much of the hosts laughing at their own jokes. Which seems to be a trend that will keep me from revisiting the podcast. Which, in turn, is a shame because the podcast concept is great.

Regardless, "The Sigma Male Bible" spends a lot of time comparing the various types of male archetypes that largely exist in the minds of self-proclaimed sigma males (e.g., alpha male, beta male, sigma male). The Greek alphabet male classification system is basically astrology signs for guys. I believe alpha and beta males have a bit more visibility, so I'll only give my very glib explanation of a sigma male here. It's a guy with no friends or girlfriend who convinces himself he's in such a situation not because he's off-putting and lacking personality, but  rather because he's just so focused on his own goals he doesn't have time for all of that.

But mocking the sigma male concept is not my purpose in this blog post (that's just a bit of a bonus). Instead, I want to focus on some discussion between the podcast hosts about the concept of an alpha male. They were discussing how the alpha male concept was supposedly reflective of the hierarchy of wolf packs. However, the alpha male wolf was a fiction, disavowed even by the scientist who originally coined the term. This isn't the first time I've heard this argument, and the implication seems to be that since no such concept really exists among wolf packs, there are similarly no alpha males among humans.

And that leads me to the title of this blog post: the faulty analogy fallacy. In short, a bad analogy for a concept invalidates the concept. In reality, the concept being discussed may be completely valid , i.e., humans can exhibit alpha male traits even if wolves do not. The problem is someone tried to explain the concept with a faulty analogy. I could be wrong, but I don't think that matches any formal fallacies that I'm familiar with, and maybe it's really an example of an inadvertent straw man. I'll have to give it more thought and see if I can come up with other examples.

As for the "Book Club From Hell" podcast, I wish those guys all the success in the world, but I likely won't be listening any more. However, if you enjoy their jokes even half as much as the hosts do, you're going to love it.

The Avett Brothers and the coffee shop show

I don't spend much time exploring music like I used to. I spend most of my time listening to podcasts and audiobooks when I drive around, and music gets short shrift. I've found some new* music in recent years, but I have a number of singers and bands whose music never seems to lose its shine. Built to Spill, Tom Waits, The Pixies, Stan Rogers, and Mississippi Fred McDowell, among others. But foremost among these bands is a group from North Carolina calling themselves The Avett Brothers after the surname of two of the three principal members, Scott and Seth Avett.

I just attended an Avett Brothers concert the other day at the Maverik Center in Salt Lake City. My wife and I attended along with my sister, her husband, her 5 kids, and her oldest daughter's boyfriend. The concert was my brother-in-law's birthday gift to my sister, and he kept it largely a surprise until we met for dinner before the concert. My wife and I showing up at dinner was a surprise for her, but it also gave it away that we were going to an Avett Brothers' concert. The Avett Brothers are her favorite band, too, and she suspected that might be where they were going, although she hadn't checked if they were even in town. 

The show was great, and I'll put the Avett Brothers as some of the best performers out there. What made me want to write about this, though, was when Scott Avett asked the crowd of some few thousand people if anyone had been at the coffee shop show. He didn't offer any additional context, but I knew exactly what he was talking about because I had been there. I shouted out, but I couldn't hear if anyone else also yelled out in the affirmative. If there was anyone else, it was just a small handful of us. The significance of the coffee shop show I assume is that was their first show in Utah. And I was there along with, maybe 70 other people.

It was sometime in 2006, if I'm not mistaken. I was in college at the time and studying Physics. I had signed up for a thermodynamics course that semester, and, candidly, I was out of my depth. The class had been nothing but struggle for me, and I was flailing about trying to understand the material. I had a test coming up the next day, and I was preparing to spend the night cramming, Then, I don't recall how exactly, I learned my new favorite band, The Avett Brothers, were playing in Salt Lake. I'd recently learned about the band thanks to a recommendation from my brother when one of their songs was featured on NPR's song of the day. The song was titled "Talk on Indolence", and I was hooked from the get go. I went out and bought the album "Talk on Indolence" was featured on, Four Thieves Gone. I don't know if I've ever listened to an album more. I'd been dreaming of seeing these guys in concert, and here was my opportunity. I would just have to blow off studying for a test, absolutely insuring I would fail the test. I uncharacteristically chose to blow off studying and go to the concert.

I enlisted my buddy Ryan to come along. I can't remember if I'd already introduced him to the band or not, but he was game to come along. We drove the 45 minutes to Salt Lake and went to the venue, a bar of some kind. We were greeted at the door by a hand written note posted on the bar's entrance door. The Avett Brothers wouldn't be playing there that night, but they were going to be playing at a coffee shop nearby. I'm very confident that the coffee shop was called Blue Cats, but it was demolished some years ago. Regardless, Ryan and I headed up to the coffee shop.

The show was already going, but, to our surprise, there was no cover charge. We made our way into the crowded coffee shop where there was standing room only. We made our way as close as we could get to the stage, probably some 15 feet away. We couldn't quite see much of the band except their heads bouncing above the crowd. The energy from their playing was palpable even without being able to see what was happening on stage. We were off to one side of the room, and there were two people standing on a riser just behind us. For whatever reason, those two people jumped down and walked off. After a momentary glance at each other, Ryan and I clambered onto the riser, elevating ourselves above the crowd and giving us a full view of the stage.

Three men were on the stage, one on upright bass, one on guitar, and one on banjo. While instruments were acoustic, the musicians were strumming them in way I'd have to describe as violent. I know, that sounds silly, but it's apt. Especially for the guitar player, who I'd eventually come to know as Seth Avett, the younger of the two brothers. We was breaking a string on every song. A roady was dedicated to swapping out the guitar on every song and replacing the broken string. So, here were these three guys, equipped to play bluegrass, no electric instruments, and they were putting on the most energetic show I've ever seen. They had all the energy of the craziest punk band I've ever seen and then some. I saw GWAR play once, and these guys were more entertaining. Ryan and I were blown away, and we watched the show transfixed. I've never seen anything like it since (though Th' Legendary Shack Shakers front man J.D. Wilkes came close the first time I saw them perform). 

I wasn't familiar with much of their material at the time except what was on Four Thieves Gone, but I fell in love with each new song they rolled out throughout the show. Eventually, the show came to an end, and I knew I was going to have to buy a CD for the drive home. Ryan and I hopped into the merch line. Ryan lent me $20 as I was a rather broke college student. What was really neat was that the band had lined up near the merch table to say hi to everyone passing through. Scott Avett, the banjo player, was doing most of the greeting while his brother Seth and bass player Bob Crawford hung back and chatted. Scott shook my hand, and I said something about how much I liked the show. He replied that he'd seen us up on the riser, and I overenthusiastically responded, "Yeah! That was us!" I was impressed he'd actually taken the time to pay attention to the crowd, especially considering how they'd spent the entire time bouncing around the stage. Scott also gave a heartfelt thanks for attending the show. I bought one of their CDs, A Carolina Jubilee, and Ryan and I headed home. We blasted the new album the entire ride home, excitedly talking back and forth about how amazing the show was. There wasn't a bad song on A Carolina Jubilee, and I quickly understood why some people on the crowd kept yelling for, "Traveling Song!"

That was pretty much it for me. The Avett Brothers were my new favorite band, but there was more than just their excellent songwriting and energetic playing. The Avett Brothers were sincere. They wore their hearts on their sleeves to such a degree that you can only applaud their courage to be so honest. On top of that, the appreciation for their fans that Scott had shown me at the coffee shop show came through in many of their songs. That appreciation, again, was sincere, and I think that was significant in cementing The Avett Brothers as my favorite band. I was a young man at the time, and I still thought there was something particularly clever about being snarky, sarcastic, and sardonic. Each of those have their time an place, but as I grew older I realized how often they are just grasping at low hanging fruit and avoiding allowing others to see any vulnerability. I don't often learn real life lessons from music, but the Avett Brothers taught me the importance of sincerity.

So, I failed the test, and ultimately had to retake Thermodynamics. I wouldn't do it any other way if I had the chance to go back and do it again.

*Well, new to me. I never much listened to The Beatles or Cat Stevens when I was younger, but that's clearly not new music.

Internet condescension wearing an altruism skin suit

 I came across the following video on YouTube: TikToker Helps Army Vet Become Best-Selling Author Overnight. In case the hyperlink ever goes dead, let me summarize the story. An Army vet who was laid off from his software engineering job tried his hand at self-publishing a book. With no real method of promoting the book, he decided to set up a table at a local Kroger and sell the books himself. So far, so good. I like this story, but it then takes a turn for the worse. 

The man's neighbor, a TikToker, spots him sitting at the supermarket sitting behind the table and selling very few books. The TikToker decides his neighbor looks dejected and makes a TikTok about him, as TikTokers are wont to do. The TikTok goes "Viral!" (enthusiasm the internet's) and people begin buying up the vet's book. So, what's my problem with this story? Not that this vet is making money off his book, but rather because of the reason people are buying the book. Is the book any good? Nobody knows. They just know he looked sad on TikTok. They're buying the book out of pity, and I can't see that as anything but extremely condescending. If our hero the vet is happy with the situation, good for him, I suppose. Imagining myself in his shoes, I can't help but think I'd be incredibly insulted in such a situation. 

I'd probably still like the money, though. 

I wonder if they register baby names in Kanji

 This caught my attention:

‘Absolutely ridiculous’: B.C. parents unable to register their baby’s Indigenous name

"Smith said she has received correspondence from the province that has spelled λugʷaləs’ name wrong, suggested a made-up anglicized version, and eventually, rejected the Kwak’wala spelling."

So, λugʷaləs is Kwak'wala spelling? Wow. It has a surprising similarity to Cyrillic and English characters. No wonder the parents are mad. 

Ukrainian Bayhem

 I think I'll start posting here again. Here's Michael Bay demonstrating some perspective while staying completely on brand:

'Bad Boys' director Michael Bay doesn't care about the Will Smith slap: 'There are babies getting blown up in Ukraine'

Going after those fan fiction monies

Several years ago, I thought of something I'd like to hear Darth Vader say to an employee of a record store.  I decided to write it down finally, but it doesn't really work as non-sequitur.  Therefore I decided to enter the wild world of fan fiction.  Apparently, Amazon is making plans to let fan fiction writers monetize their works. Let's see if I can get in on that with this story.  Enjoy!

Darth Vader's day off:

For routing the Rebel Alliance, capturing Han Solo, and cutting off Luke Skywalker's hand just before spilling the beans about Vader's paternity, the Emperor decided to give Darth Vader a much needed day off. 

Vader spends part of the day browsing at the Bespin record store for something new to add to his music library.  While in the section under the label "F", he begins to murmur to himself.  Soon Vader is flipping through the assortment of CD's more and more furiously.  Finally, he utters a surprised and irritated, "What?" (you know like he did that one time in the movie, can't remember where maybe Death Star trench run when Han Solo shows back up?).

Vader turns to look at the clerk and then back to the CD rack before striding menacingly over to the credits register.  He informs the clerk, "I find your lack of Faith Hill disturbing.  Your paltry selection of modern country hits has failed me for the last time…" Vader glances at the clerk's nametag, "Steve!" 

At this, Vader raises his hand threateningly ready to force choke the life out of poor Steve.  Which is kind of silly since he's really only a couple feet from Steve and could just robot choke him with his bionic arm like he did to the captain of the Tantive IV.  Then again, using the Force choke always gives Vader plausible deniability that a victim just choked to death on their own.  On the other hand, being the number two in the Empire usually comes with free reign to murder anyone you want so we're left assuming Vader can be kind of lazy.

Fearing for his life, Steve exclaims, "Were you looking under "H" for Hill or "F" for Faith?"  Vader pauses.  Steve sputters out, "We put artists using their real names alphabetically by last name!"

Vader glances thoughtfully at the CD rack.  He strides over to the H section.  Sandwiched between Jimi Hendrix and Lauryn Hill are 5 of Faith Hill's 7 albums.  Vader picks up a copy of Cry and returns to the counter where Steve waits with dread. 

"Sorry about that, Steve.  I should have figured or at least just asked.  You know, at my day job I always have to be a real hard case and sometimes I let that drift over into my personal life.  No hard feelings, I hope."

"No, no problem.  I get annoyed, too, when I can't find what I'm looking for.  That'll be 10 credits."

Vader pays and steps out of the record store.  Inside his custom TIE fighter, he puts his new copy of Cry into the CD player and turns the volume up on "Free."  By the time the last few bars of "When the Lights Go Down" have played Vader is thinking about his behavior at the record store.

He thinks to himself, "Yeesh, I was this close to suffocating poor Steve back there because I couldn't find a CD.  Definitely overreacted on that one.  And it's not like it's an isolated incident.  I cut my own son's hand off the other day and then tell him I'm his absentee father?  Who does that?  Is this really what I've come to?"

"I feel like this whole dark side of the Force thing may not be everything Palpatine told me it would be.  I mean, ever since I decided to embrace it I've really turned into a jerk.  There was that time I killed a whole group of younglings.  I could have let the clones do it, or just sold them all into slavery, but I had to go on and cut them all down.  And younglings don't just disintegrate when you hit them with a lightsaber like Ol' Obi Wan did.  That takes years of force training to do.  Poor things."

"I don't know, maybe I really need to take a good long look at my life and figure out if this is really where and who I want to be.  Oh, 'Unsaveable'!  I love this song!  And totally appropriate right now!  So crazy when stuff like that happens.  Well, that's the Force for you."

Roughly one year later, Vader stands silently watching the Emperor fire bolt after bolt of Force lightning into his son.  Just then, the chorus from "Unsaveable" pops into Vader's head.

"Cause baby I cried a little too hard, a little too long

What I though was right was way too wrong

It's too far gone

I can't bring back the love

They just ain't enough

Unavailable, impossible, unsaveable love."

"Ah, nuts to it!" thinks Vader.  Grabbing his Sith Lord Master, Vader hoists him over his head and hurls him to his doom in one of the many inexplicable bottomless pits scattered throughout the Death Star.

As Vader lies dying, Luke removes his father's mask.  Vader sees his son with his own eyes for the first and last time.  He tells Luke to go. 

In the moments before he becomes one with the Force, Vader thinks, "Did I do it?  Was it enough?"

The final lines of "Unsaveable" echo through his mind.

"There's someone out there for me boy

Who thinks I'm beautiful

I've got to go

But baby I've tried, I've tried

Baby I've tried."

Have you ever seen that Digiorno's Pizza commercial where the kid puts on a crappy pizza delivery boy costume to infiltrate some party?  If not, here it is on youtube:

This one really irks me.  When was the last time you invited the pizza delivery boy to your party?  You'd think they'd get suspicious that he didn't have to get back to work. 

Mediocre superheroes

I was mowing my dad's lawn today when I started thinking of a common improv comedy routine. The routine consists of the first player taking on the persona of a goofy superhero. As another player enters, the first dubs him with another absurd superhero name and persona to act out. I came up with a few of my own out there.

Mr. Indifferent and Captain Cares-A-Lot. A dynamic duo. Mr. Indifferent can't get worked up to fight actual crimes while Captain Cares-A-Lot is overly concerned with trivial crimes such as a littered napkin or dogs left off their leashes to pay attention to actual crimes.

Not Even Trying Man. I like this one. I imagined that upon the entrance of the next character, Not Even Trying Man would give them an actual superhero name, like Batman or Spiderman.

Now if only I could get into an improv group. Then again, all the funny ideas I have about these characters would only be able to come to fruition if the other players happened to give me these names. Plus, I would suck at all the other improv games.

Burger King wants to ruin your peaceful nights.

Several years ago, Burger King introduced a mascot for their fast food franchise. Appropriately enough, the mascot was a man dressed as a king who gives people hamburgers. Also, the King was outfitted with an unsettling plastic mask. The King looks like this:

The King's ad campaign had him pop up and present people with hamburgers in various situations. The King would suddenly appear behind a person, look at them silently for a couple seconds, and then hand them a hamburger. The King's behavior reminded me of a stalker who, upon finally gathering the gumption to approach the object of their misplaced affection, chokes at the last second and presents the stalkee with a value meal instead of the inevitable disembowelment.

So the King has always seemed like a strange figurehead for an ad campaign. He's creepy. It makes me wonder if there are even focus groups for commercials. In spite of his creepiness, the King isn't all that bad. Tough to say if that was always the case or if I've just gotten used to him over the years.

Recently, Burger King has started airing a commercial that ups the creepiness quite a bit, maybe even into disturbing territory. The commercial in question is for ribs. Yep, ribs from Burger King.

Surely you're thinking, "Ribs? From a fast food joint? Yeah, right! When pigs fly." Which is exactly what they were expecting you to think. Therefore, this ad was born:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MKcYHtCn3Ek&feature=related

Yeah, I'm not sure how to embed videos yet. What of it? So, the idea seems to be addressing the audience's initial reaction of disbelief to the idea of ribs being served at a fast food restaurant by using a flying pig man to promote the ribs. Obviously, this addresses the aforementioned flying pig imagery in order to reconcile the disparity between Burger King's usual menu and what is typically an entree considered out of reach for a fast food establishment.

Personally, I'd like to believe that the executives at Burger King understood just how big of a mountain they were trying to climb by selling ribs as fast food. Sure, they certainly seem more rib-like than that goo that forms the center of a McRib sandwich, but ribs are a meat that is best cooked slowly over many hours. And slow, or rather patient, cooking is not the specialty of fast food. Obviously. Anyway, I'd like to believe that the marketing people behind these ribs figured their best bet was to try to make the ribs look good by comparison. Because they don't look good by themselves. Not good at all. So they created the pig monster man to offset public disdain for the ribs. Because most things look good compared to the flying pig man.

If this is the case, the whole thing seems counterproductive to me. Sure, in the commercial the flying pig man is making the ribs look much more appetizing than they have any right to be by comparison. But suppose someone actually buys these ribs, sits down to eat them, and then remembers flying pig man assuring them that the ribs are good. That just seems like a recipe for a lost appetite.

That said, I hold out hope that Burger King will adopt the flying pig man as the King's sidekick. It can be the start of a whole pantheon of off-putting Burger King mascots that could eventually lead to a misguided attempt at a film franchise. Come to think of it, there were those ads starring the Whopper family. I guess we're already there.

The exciting conclusion of my thoughts on Distict 9

Not really. I'm just going to let that last post hang there, unfinished. I guess the idea of District 9 being nominated for an Oscar is a little less offensive seeing as how Avatar was up for the best picture nod. I don't have much to say here. I thought I ought to make some futile attempt to upkeep this blog. No one reads it anyway. If there were more going on in my life, I might actually write about it here and tell my family about it. That way I'd at least get courtesy page views.

Anyway, a few week s ago I saw a movie called "Rolling Vengeance". It was like Mad Max except about a trucker who builds a monster truck to kill the guys who killed his family. The truck had a drill on the front as well. Pretty awesome, really.

District 9

I watched "District 9" last Saturday. I can't say that I was particularly interested in seeing the film. My roommate was going to see it with his brothers and dad and he invited me along. I thought I might as well watch it. It was matinee prices after all.
After seeing it, I thought, "Wow. That was an okay movie. It had a lot of stupid elements and turned into a video game movie in the second half, but it was okay."
But I've been reading people talking about how great the movie is, saying it's one of the best sci-fi films of the decade and how Oscar worthy it is. And honestly, that bugs me. Because it's not that great. It's okay. It's fairly enjoyable, but I will vehemently disagree with anyone who says it is worthy of the praise it's getting. So, here's why my opinion is better than theirs. Spoilers ahead:
The overall concept of District 9 is fairly original. At least it isn't one of the overused sci-fi tropes that we see trotted out again and again. The beginning of the film is in a documentary style where the arrival of an alien species above Johannesburg, South Africa 20 years ago is explained through various interviews and other documentary stuff. You know what? I'm going to skip over the plot description for now. Just know that the aliens have been moved into a slum underneath their spaceship and have been heavily segregated from the human population.
A private organization called the MNU is the main entity that deals with the aliens. And they're EEEEEVIL. Super evil. Hitler evil. Mustache twirlingly, tying women to railroad tracks, hand wringingly evil. And it is the MNU's ridiculous level of evilness that really prevents this movie from being great. The evil marine employed by the MNU and becomes the main antagonist actually says to one of the aliens (called prawns derogatorily), "I love killing you prawns!" Cause he's evil, see?
Anyway, I'll have to finish complaining about other peoples' opinions later.

Drag me to Ukraine

I lived in a Ukraine from the July of 2002 to the July of 2004. While there I ran into a group of people that I had only had knowledge of from TV and film, Gypsies or Roma. Director Sam Raimi is releasing a film titled "Drag Me To Hell" and it focuses on a girl who will be dragged to Hell in three days because of a Gypsy curse. Now in my first week in Ukraine, I was sitting in a cab with a friend of mine. The cab driver had left to take care of something before we departed. We waited with the doors open, my friend in the passenger seat and me in the back on the passenger side.
We were suddenly approached by two Gypsy women. There tended to be groups of Gypsies around train and bus stations. Unfortunately, they were usually there to ask travelers for money or on occasion steal from them. I hope that doesn't sound hateful, but I knew quite a few people who had their wallets stolen by Gypsies at train stations.
Anyway, the women approached us and began speaking to us. I hardly spoke any Russian and understood less. My friend was preoccupied with the other Gypsy, so I was left to my own devices to communicate with this woman. After a couple of minutes of neither one of us understanding one another, the woman pulled a hair off of my head and poked out triangle patterns on my arm with it. Then both of the women turned and left.
I asked my friend, "What just happened?"
He replied, "They were asking for money. They said if we didn't give them money they would curse us with bad health. That's why they pulled out the hair."
I said, "So I was just cursed by a Gypsy?"
"Yep. Cursed with bad health."
"Huh."
Happily, I wasn't sick for over a year and a half after that. Also happily, I haven't been dragged to Hell either.

Sexual Healing

I'm not convinced that anyone genuinely likes the song "Sexual Healing" by Marvin Gaye. I think people only like it ironically. I was listening to it earlier and there's not really anything really interesting about it other than the words "sexual healing." Other than that it sounds like a run of the mill R & B love song. I'm not trying to imply that Marvin Gaye sucks or anything. I'm personally not too familiar with his music other than "Sexual Healing." I just don't think that most people like that song as anything but a novelty.
To me, it's one of those things that people put on so they can nudge their friends and say, "Hey, look what I'm listening to. It's a song about getting it on. Pretty funny, huh?" and then they never listen to any other Marvin Gaye song. At least, they probably don't listen to his other songs knowingly. I'm sure there are many fans of Marvin Gaye who are familiar with his entire catalogue of music and I don't want to offend them. You know how rabid Marvin Gaye fans can be. I just don't think that "Sexual Healing" is anything but ironically cool for most people.
On the other hand, I'm not afraid to offend fans of the Beatles. Yep, I don't like the Beatles. I only bring up the Beatles because it seems to me many people only like the Beatles because everyone likes the Beatles. You can't like good music if you don't like the Beatles seems to be the mindset many people have. Of course, that line of thinking is dumb. There will never be anything, a book, a band, a movie, a flavor of soda, that will be universally liked. So running into an unfavorable opinion shouldn't be that big of a deal. Besides, overwhelming popularity does not automatically make a thing wonderful. After all, how many people were doing the Macarena?
I digress. I never thought the Beatles' early stuff (Hard Day's Night, Help!) was very good. In my opinion it was all a bunch of vapid love songs. I find it hard to believe that they were ever taken seriously after their early work. All their fans seemed to be screaming, teenage girls. They were the Backstreet Boys of the sixties. I thought I liked their later stuff until I actually started listening to one of their albums. I thought most of the songs were just annoying noise.
Of course I realize how influential the Beatles were and still are. I'm sure they've influenced most of the music I listen to these days. But I just can't get behind their music. I tend to like covers of their songs way more than I actually like the original versions.
Anywho, I don't really want to offend anyone with my opinion. But when it comes to disliking the Beatles, it's impossible to not set someone off. I've seen Beatles fans accuse those who dislike the Beatles of being liars. Some people actually think it's impossible to dislike the Bealtes, which is pretty dumb.
I don't know how I transitioned into a talking about the Beatles from Sexual Healing, but I've done it. I guess I don't have to worry too much about rabid Marvin Gaye or Beatles fans coming after me. No one's reading this anyway.

P.S. I hate the Eagles, also. I think "Hotel California" is just a terrible song.

Last Letter to My Mom

From frivolous musings on TV, video games and movies to mourning about my ailing mother. Wow, this blog has everything. My favorite person in the world is slipping away and I'm sitting here watching her go. I think my original intent for this blog was to create an ongoing tribute to my own mediocrity. I may be mediocre, but my mom isn't; no matter what anyone says. Seriously, I will fight you if you call my mom mediocre. Unless you did it in the comments and then I would simply delete your stupid comment.
I digress. My mom is extraordinary. I think by and large most people would consider their mother extraordinary and my sympathy goes out to anyone not blessed with having such an amazing woman in their life. But I want to talk about how my mother is extraordinary.
Despite having only one year of college, my mom is incredibly educated. She was so well prepared to raise her six children. She cooked, cleaned, and took care of us. Took care of us isn't the right phrase. She nurtured us. She wasn't a maid. She wasn't our servant. She was a loving parent willing to sacrifice for her children. You see, my siblings and I were her most prized possession.
Her mother had taught her how to cut hair. I don't think I ever went to a barber until I was nineteen. She was talented with a sewing machine. I can't count the number of blankets she made for her kids and later her grandkids. She learned how to make an array of household items. She could make bread, jam, soap, lotion, and toothpaste among other things. We had over a years worth of canned fruits and vegetables in our basement thanks to her.
Some may scoff and say these are all domesticated skills and that somehow they are less respectable than those of a woman who made a career for herself. My response is that the things she did for us kids are more important and will have longer lasting consequences than most of the decisions some CEO will make. Jobs really only make you money. Motherhood makes families.
Besides, my mother has her own fair share of career accomplishments. She has worked as a school music teacher, a bank loan officer, a real estate agent and she has been the head of the financial department for a school for disabled children for the past six years. She has a fairly impressive resume for a woman with only one year of college.
Another reason my mom was so extraordinary to me is for her musical ability. She and my father both have impressive singing voices and together they cultivated a love of music in each of their children. Music is one of the most important things in my life and I owe that love to my mother.
Finally, my mother is extraordinary to me because of the love she has shown me for my entire life. I know that she would be willing to help me whenever possible, regardless of how troublesome it might be for her. I think of the many, many times she has stepped in to help me clean up some mess I have gotten myself into and I know that only a mother who loves her son more than herself would do that.
I love you Mom. You are my favorite person in this world. It breaks my heart to see you go, but I know I'll see you again someday. Goodbye, Mom*.


*In case you're wondering, I have cried a few times.

Better left alone

Not surprisingly, no one is reading my little blog. Maybe talking about something new and fresh will bring in the readers. I know! The new Indiana Jones flick. People love Indiana Jones.
I saw the new Indiana Jones movie opening day and I've been wanting to write about my thoughts on the movie. First off, I had absolutely no hope for this movie. Why? Remember the Star Wars prequels? Yeah, those movies sucked. They had some good parts, but overall they were pretty awful. I figured that a new Indiana Jones movie would have the same pitfalls from before. After watching the movie I would have to say that I would watch The Kingdom of the Crystal Skull over any one of the prequels.
That said, I have to let you know that I did not care much for this new Indiana Jones adventure. It definitely wasn't the train wreck I thought it would be. I had Marina Trench expectations for this one. The movie was enjoyable as long as you didn't use your brain. There's an overwhelming neglect of the laws of physics in many scenes. On the other hand, the CGI wasn't as out of place as I originally thought it would be.
So what were my main problems with the movie? Two things:
First, everything felt shoehorned into the movie. It felt like the film's writers sat around one day talking about all the things that were awesome in the original movies and decided to write those things into the script. I imagine that the writing sessions went like this:
"You know what was awesome? When Indy jumped on that truck and threw all the Nazis off of it! We should have him do that three or four times! That would be awesome!"
"Remember when the Nazis opened the Ark and the wrath of God came out an melted their faces? That was awesome! Someone needs to get their face melted or exploded in this one, too!"
Writers love to talk in exclamation points turns out. Anyway, all the action scenes simply felt like a rehash of scenes from the original movies. Besides that, the action scenes were completely superfluous. Many of them have no effect on the plot at all. I suppose that this is forgivable since the action is probably the main attraction of an Indiana Jones movie. It seems they could have put a little more effort in explaining the couple of times Indy's party is suddenly attacked by native inhabitants. That really just goes back to my point though. Indiana Jones was attacked by indigenous peoples in the first three films so it must happen in this one.
On to my second major complaint. Shia Lebouf. I really, really, really hate this kid's acting. I'm making this judgment based on the small list of films I've seen the kid in. They are in short order Transformers, Disturbia, and a few minutes of Holes. I think I'll go into detail in another post on how those movies all worse off (amazing I know) due to his presence.
Indiana Jones the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull is no better off. I'm just going to say I feel that Mr. Lebouf is miscast as a "tough," motorcycle riding, greaser kid. He has a couple of scenes that I would like to call "Anakin moments" that make his character grate on my nerves even more. An Anakin moment would be a scene in which an annoying character performs an amazing feat that is supposed to make said character more heroic. The best example would be from the Phantom Menace, specifically the scene where little Anakin accidentally takes a spacefighter into space, accidentally crashes onto the enemy's starship, and then accidentally destroys it. Force shmorce, that was awful. Now that I think about it, I could call this a Jar Jar Moment since Phantom Menace had that awful scene in which Jar Jar accidently destroys a fair number of the droid army. But Anakin gets the title since the greater crime was making Darth Vader suck.
Mr. Lebouf's defining Anakin moment would have to be the scene of him swinging through a jungle Tarzan like with a small army of monkeys at his side. If you haven't seen the movie, the scene is even more ridiculous than it sounds.
The writers also pitted me against this movie by bringing to life one of my major fears for the film concerning Shia Lebouf. Here's a spoiler alert for you. Seeing the ads I began to worry that Mutt (finally remembered Shia Lebouf's character's name) would turn out to be Indiana Jones' son. And man can I call them. This actually ties into my previous point of the movie trying to recreate things from the earlier films. It seemed to me that the relationship between Mutt and Indy was an attempt to recreate the father/son dynamic that Ford and Connery had in The Last Crusade.
The whole son situation left me wondering the whole movie how Indiana Jones could have such a wiener of a kid. I guess all the genes that make him so awesome are recessive. It reminded me of Kirk's wiener kid in Star Trek II: The Wrath of Kahn. You know, the guy who wraps a sweater around his neck the first chance he gets. That and the perm. Also, Kim Bauer sucks. Apparently all Bauer awesomeness is carried on the Bauer Y chromosome. The point is, Indiana Jones should not be having wiener kids.
Although better than I expected, I still found this latest entry into the Indiana Jones saga more than a bit disappointing. I just hope they won't try to continue the franchise with Shia Lebouf stepping into Ford's shoes as the surprisingly tough archaeologist. But if George Lucas can make Darth Vader into a pansy I guess no character is safe.

If someone could explain...

Here's something that has perplexed me for awhile. The game Half Life 2. I've heard occasionally that it is the best video game of all time. I never touched the game until my roommate bought the Orange Box that includes Half Life 2 and its two sequel episodes. I started playing through Half Life 2, but somewhere along the line I got really bored with the game. If you ask me, it's just a derivative version of Doom with better graphics and less interesting monsters. Even the plot is basically the same: an interdimensional portal is opened and monsters come out to kill people.
Anyway, I've just always wondered what the appeal of the game is that garners it the title of best game ever. I guess you could mod it on a PC, so maybe that had something to do with it. All I know is that the hot re-bar throwing crossbow is the stupidest variation of a sniper rifle ever. High projectile speed is usually desirable, isn't it?

The rest of the dominoes will fall like a house of cards. Checkmate!

I'm already posting again. Why? Because today my job entails sitting behind a lighting console and making sure the lights don't go out for 12 or 13 hours. So I thought I'd talk about Futurama.
I remember when Futurama premiered on Fox. It was pretty highly anticipated where I lived. In my high school we had televised announcements. The day after the premiere the opening sequence featuring the Planet Express spaceship flying through New New York was on the announcements. I watched the show a few times before deciding it was a disappointment that did not live up to its predecessor The Simpsons. At this point you should realize that in high school I was kind of an idiot.
I'm a totally different idiot now. I started watching Futurama on Adult Swim four years ago and I had trouble figuring out why I didn't like the show when it began. It dawned on me that the first season was spent getting used to the atmosphere of the show. I've noticed the same thing in most animated shows. It seems to take about one season for the voice actors to really get into their characters. Futurama was still funny its first season, but it didn't feel as natural and polished as the later seasons. And it is these later seasons that, in my opinion, Futurama became a better show than the Simpsons ever has been and here's why: When Futurama aimed for sentimentality, it actually worked.
Simpsons occasionally pulled of some moments that I have no better way of describing as sweet. Futurama on the other hand has a couple of episodes that almost leave me in tears. tears never actually leave my tear ducts because my Dad's the type of guy who doesn't let his emotions come through like that and that trait passed on to me through either genetics or emulation on my part. That said, I'll lay out my policy on crying for men and women: Be a man, ya wuss. Almost crying is okay though.
This post has rambled on long enough so I'll just list two episodes that really get me on the edge of crying and revealing to the world how much of a wuss I am. The ending of the episode "Jurassic Bark" which follows Fry's attempt to clone his fossilized dog. The show bounces back and forth between contemporary New York and New York 1,000 years in the future. The flashback sequences show us Fry's relationship with Seymour while in the future, Bender becomes jealous of Fry's attention to his soon to be reanimated pet. Spoiler alert I guess. In the end of the episode, Fry finds out his dog lived a full life after he was frozen and decides not to clone the dog supposing Seymour had forgotten him. After that, we are treated to a time lapse of Seymour waiting the rest of his life in front of the pizza place Fry worked hoping his owner will return. It's probably one of the saddest things ever.
Another episode that really gets me is "The Luck of the Fryrish" which follows Fry in an attempt to reclaim his septuple leaf clover. The clover always gave Fry good luck. The episode plays out like the "Jurassic Bark" episode. Fry searches for the clover in future New York while flashbacks detail the many lucky things that happened to him in the past whenever he had the clover on his person. The flashbacks also explore the relationship between Fry and his older brother, Yancy, and their continual sibling rivalry. Despite being the older sibling, Yancy was constantly copying Fry. In the future, Fry finds out that Yancy apparently stole Fry's clover and identity after Fry's disappearance. Fry sets out to find his brother's grave in order to reclaim his lucky clover. I won't rehearse the ending for this one, but I will say it is probably one of the most heartwarming things I've ever seen on television.

Let's fill up the internet.

Here's another useless blog on the internet. I really want to do my part to clog up the inter-tubes. With this post the web is just that much fuller.
What's really awful is that I have absolutely no predetermined purpose for this blog. Some people blog about movies, other people blog about cute animals and in the process butcher the English language. That's not to say I won't be doing any butchering myself. There's no purpose to this blog. I'm just killing time at work. It's most likely that I'll only use this site a handful of times then lose track of it completely. Kind of like how I managed to lose my myspace account. Yep, I lost it. I used myspace maybe five times over the course of two years. After an undetermined amount of time without using myspace, I can't even find myself. I type in my name, a bunch of jerks show up and I'm not one of them.
People tell me I'm better off without myspace. Everyone's telling me that facebook is the way to go. I keep telling them that's stupid. It's the same thing. It's ketchup and catsup if you ask me. I once asked a girl on a date if she knew of a difference between ketchup and catsup. Turns out that's a strange question to ask someone on a date. Hey! I found a theme for my blog! Stream of consciousness blogging. I'll just write whatever stupid thought comes to mind.
That'll draw in the readers, I'm sure of it.