"There's a war coming," said Widmore to Locke "So this creepy dude will carry you 'round the block" But everyone called him a failure with no love 'Til he tried to hang himself from above Ben choked him and then crashed on the island of rock
Shaun Rogers is mad that his meanie coach didn't say hello Gets paid $15 million to stuff the run, eat burgers and Jell-O When you're speaking of the woeful Browns Every member of the team is sporting frowns Welcome to Cleveland, Mangini, you're one lucky fellow
Proof that the economy doesn't a well future bode Tight purse strings have struck along Tobacco Road The ACC Tournament is the event that everyone cheers The public can buy tickets for the first time in 45 years The tourney held in a dome in Atlanta? What a load
A nail-biting loss to 13th-ranked Wake 19 fouls to 10? That's hard to take Needed a lot more from Courtney Fells A favorite, but right now his game smells Pack's tough when they actually get a fair shake
Nobody gave a chance to tiny Tim Clark But he figgered he'd play anyway, on a lark Played Tiger and his fawning media zoo Handed him his ass with a tidy 4 and 2 Timmy's Pack bite was bigger than Tiger's massive-ego bark I don't have much to back up this rhyme Little to say about this terrorist slime Looks a little like Kenny G with a 'stache Or Horatio Sanz after a diet crash Might be the greatest mug shot of all time
A third excerpt (first is here and second is here) from the $1 Street Sheet 2008 Art & Poetry Issue from a January '08 visit to San Fran. All grammar ibid.
Think about it.
Time for Everyone (by George Wynn)
"If a St. Francis of Assisi Bodhisattva resided in every neighborhood From seacliff to Bayview He'd touch you, he'd touch me Yeah. he'd touch the rich He'd homeless people and the feeble He'd hug the folks with AIDS He'd hug the poorly paid And smile all the while: 'look my brothers and sisters I've got nothing, but I've got everything.'"
Whether you're drinking a Dixie, an Abita or even a hurricane, or whether you're eating jambalaya, a boudoin ball or even fried alligator, have a very merry Mardi Gras!
I hear Facebook is taking over our lives People posting pics and trying to find wives Some companies even hiring on the site 25 Random Things caught on, all right But Moms and Grandmas are everywhere -- gives me hives
Memphis continues being FedEx's pimps Wanted to put the company uni on Calipari's chimps Film class is passed by watching "Bambi" Well-compensated, just ask Marcus Camby A program that's shadier than a basement full o' gimps
Another long flight, but this one to Guam They're hoping the plane goes up like a bomb Lost Aaron takes away Kate's perfect smile But makes her want to join the club of high mile? Suicide note, electromagnetism makes it hard to stay calm
Sportmanship is still alive, if only in high school Support for a grieving foe, that's pretty cool After reading about A-Rod faking pain And illiterate Pac Man making it rain Good to hear there are athletes who are more than a tool The race card has been played, thanks to a cartoon Showing cops shooting dead a baboon Some think the monkey is supposed to be Barack Because of a stimulus bill reference, what a crock Just an unfunny editorial drawn by an untalented goon
I don't pretend to know or care much about the political beliefs of the six people who actually visit this site, although I'd be willing to bet I have a pretty good idea which way you lean. For the most part, I try to avoid the political landmines* and bring you some funny from time to time, since you can put me in the category of those who think people are way too f'ing serious for way too f'ing much of the time.
I couldn't ignore the story that is developing in the video above, and not only because it's hit my InBox a coupla times. I'm not going to comment too much except to say that with a war raging and teenagers coming back in body bags, with the economy in shambles and the "Great Depression Part Deux" hitting theaters near you this spring, with eight years of ass-backwards policy to overturn toot-sweet, and with all the other societal ills I don't have the time to mention going on ... it would seem Ken Starr and people who have made it their mission in life to destroy the happiness of people who genuinely love each other might have something better to focus their time, resources and energies on. I'm just sayin'.
Anyway, if you're interested in getting involved even a little bit, throw your mouse here or here. It's easy and it could make a difference.
As an added bonus, it'll piss of Ken Starr. And lord knows that guy is way too goddam serious.
* This is not true at all. Just wanted to see if you were paying attention. Carry on.
Say it ain't so, they said to A-Rod An embarrassment to the entire Yankee squad Scientology couldn't change your tainted piss Will Madonna still love you after all this? Just the latest to be exposed as a fraud
Tar Heel football players involved in another fray Butch Davis used a Jedi mind trick to make it go away "You see, he head-butted my linebacker's fist You think you can get the charges dismissed? It was just a slapfight at a gay bar during 'YMCA'"
Could it really be the end of one Brett Favre Off to the booth with Madden to turkey carve? He came back to throw ducks in the city of crime And lead the league in picks one final time Now he'll leave poor Peter King love-starved
"Lost" killed off yet another babydoll Locke snapped a femur at the end of a fall Pregnant Rousseau is left to fend for herself Hoping for a return of Charlie the elf To return or not is a tough "Oceanic 6" call The economy continues in a scary freefall Can the stimulus package make that fall stall? No one knows for sure, is the unfortunate fact Best to keep your cube's personal effects packed Nonetheless, a Happy Valentine's Day to one and all
The latest batch of winners to roll through the In-Box ...
Title: Compose Love song for wedding Category: Writing / Editing / Translation Description: I would like to see if there are any talent people out here that can help me write a song to be dedicated to my wife on my wedding day.
It would be good if this person can also create a Karaoke like MTV so that I could play it on screen during the wedding and the guest can see the lyrics written.
As this is a once in a lifetime issue, I am hoping for perfection or at least near perfection..
Comments: It is tremendous to see the words "karaoke," "MTV" and "perfection" in the same sentence. That doesn't happen often enough. Hopefully there are some "talent people" out there that can make your wedding some kind of wonderful.
Title: English to Urdu Translation Category: Writing / Editing / Translation Description: I need 4-5 pages translated into Urdu and typed in the Urdu (Nafees Nastaleeq) font. You should already have vast translation and Urdu typing experience. I am not sure if I can get Urdu translators here, but if there is any, I look forward to hearing from you.
Thanks.
Comments: Urdu is from Star Trek, right? I don't know if the adjective "vast" would cover my experience level, but I'll give it a shot with this sweet-ass Klingon decoder ring.
Title: rehersal dinner Category: Writing / Editing / Translation Description: my son is getting married, i would like to play the cd at rehersal dinner
Comments: I'm not sure if you're looking for a writer or a goddam DJ, but I am freaking awesome at playing CDs at "rehersal" dinners.
Title: blogging and mprove my website Category: Writing / Editing / Translation Description: great contnt for bloggs and newsletters
Comments: I'm not sure it's possible to "mprove" any "contnt" for "bloggs" based on your obvious mastery of the English language displayed here, but I believe I've heard this one guy George Bush is looking for a new gig. You can reach him at jackass42@cantfoolmeagin.com.
Title: children books needed (multiple) Category: Writing / Editing / Translation Description: Hello creative writers! I am looking for VERY TALENTED creative writers that can capture the attention of kids between ages 6-10. I need a very good writer that has a track record and a way with words. I'm not looking for cheap foreigners in 3rd World countries or people that write terrible content for blogs, I'm looking for people can that really write, that has creative thoughts that can write and very good with rhyming also. All stories will have the following in common: moral no violence no magic something realigious and non religous would enjoy and the story will teach a moral point that kids can gain from
Stories will range around 1,000 words more or less and I plan on creating atleast 50 stories and then 1-2 more per week. You will be acting as a ghost writer, so no credits to your name and I will own full rights.
I look forward hearing from you. Don't reply if you don't have already a noteworthy portfolio.
Comment: Wow. I don't know where to begin. I'll leave out the odd usage of capital letters and the blatant racism ("cheap foreigners in 3rd world countries"? … really?). I don't like to write anything that doesn't include lots of magic and "religious" themes, but I'll give it a shot since you like rhyming.
You come across like a douche of the highest order Taking potshots at "foreigners" south of the border Yet you're the one who can't actually spell Gurus read your post and say "what the hell?" You get what you pay for when you offer a quarter
By now, you know what the F a "Snuggie" is -- whether you ever wanted to or not. If you're one of the seven Quakers or Amishfolk who hasn't seen the commercial, it's a bathrobe. That you wear backwards. If that doesn't speak to your needs as a human being to own one, then apparently you're missing out on the "Cult of the Snuggie," as Time magazine puts it. Hats off to the marketing folks behind the "Snuggie," I guess.
Because somehow, as of halfway through January, there had been 3 million sold already. Yes … 3 million. And it is on backorder. And it is made in China. And they're coming out with new versions for kids and the "outdoors." Because the only thing missing from camping is dressing up like freaking Obi Wan Kenobi and traipsing around the woods in a fleece christing straitjacket.
Of course, someone much smarter than me is going to make the argument that in a down economy, people tend to flock to cheap, simple things that make them feel better. But that in no way justifies this "Slanket" knockoff, which will likely seem pretty cool to you until one of your farts gets stuck inside of it and you can't escape.
The stoner below, the genius behind something called "Cam's Rants," rips off an epic tirade against "The Snuggie" that features so many F-bombs it would make "the Dude" blush. While his main issue with this product is what it costs -- i.e., for $30, "you can feed a little African kid for quite a while" -- he does point out that it basically targets people who aren't good with moving one of their arms up to 15 degrees in any direction.
Anyway, enjoy the rant. And if you're shopping for the ideal birthday gift for that special Jawa in your life, look no further … the Snuggie is here.
Michael Phelps found that smoking hippie lettuce is not OK Even if you were once the darling of the entire USA Tried to pay to make those pictures disappear As he pounded FunYuns and shotgunned beer Having the munchies makes it easy to reach 10,000 calories per day
Another outburst for that nut Christian Bale Makes headlines for every whine and wail A member of the crew walked through his scene So he blasted him in a way that was obscene He and Russell Crowe need to co-star, that can't fail
Signing Day leaves Internet scouts tired and in tatters Every guru and pundit carefully gushes and flatters But rankings are for fans who are weanies 'Cause remember: stars are just like bikinis They show everything except what really matters A rather odd interruption of the Steelers-Cards game Made Janet Jackson's wardrobe malfunction seem tame A 30-second midgame switch over to porn Had some fans more than a little torn Keep watching porn or see who gets Super Bowl fame?
When you go to UNC, you're guaranteed As and Bs After you get in, you get passed through with ease If that doesn't devalue their diploma enough Online courses enroll athletes who aren't up to snuff Chuck Kuralt just rolled over in his grave of whine and cheese
Yet another Super Bowl Sunday approaches pretty quick 25 straight years, the Dolphins aren't involved a lick Can Pittsburgh mount their vaunted rushing attack? Can grocery-boy Warner avoid being put on his back? The Bengals will be watching in a cell block with Michael Vick
As we all bid adieu to the remarkable Kay Yow Whose story made us all simply say, "Wow" Fought breast cancer bravely for 20 years Carried herself with grace amidst the tears NC State is certainly going to miss her—and how
Finally, some class is shown by one Drew Brees Whose chase for Dan Marino's record was but a tease He admitted that it should be broken the right way Not by someone whose game plan is "Bombs away!" Would help if more respected the game's greats, please
Seems the U. of Houston has put out yet another thug Stepped on Chase Budinger like he was stomping a bug Memories of one Christian Laettner, that queer He was too light in his sneakers to inspire much fear The FBI trying to make sure Coleman's not the target of a .44 slug
Desmond and Penny had a boy who's younger than 4 Named for the good Charlie, not the Charles Widmore An H-bomb from the '50s is a danger all must heed Faraday loves Charlotte, but she's got a nose bleed Confused John Locke's trying to be a leader, but his Latin is poor
For all its character development, flashbacks, flashforwards, sidestories and coincidences, "Lost" is essentially a story about redemption and a reflection on the human condition. As a result of listening to its constituency, the show's writers and producers have promised that Season 5 will convey a sense of moving toward something, and finally, providing more answers than questions—with the main query being, "When destiny calls, will you answer?"
The Season 4 finale was as well-done as any aspect of the series has been thus far, leaving us with a lot of believable cliffhangers and a myriad of questions that weren't frustrating, but challenging. And as always, we're struck by the anomaly of the horror of the island contrasted with how beautiful it looks from the air.
"Lost" does the dramatic slow-motion final scene better than anyone, and we see Kate looking back toward the sea, recognizing that the ocean and Sawyer mean freedom while the land and Jack equal stability. Meanwhile, in the final moments, Jack had the following exchange with Desmond:
"Don't let them find you, Desmond."
"I'll see you in another life, brother."
"Aye, I guess you will."
This back-and-forth between Desmond and Jack echoes the first meeting between the two. "Lost" is getting better and better at bringing plots and storylines full circle so that certain moments and lines make sense. If you would have told me that George Lucas would somehow find a way to bring the entire "Star Wars" six-ology together in a way that was brilliant and cohesive, I would have laughed. Yet, he did it; and now "Lost" is attempting to pull off the same minor miracle.
While the Season 5 premier primarily involved the flashback to three years prior, it also introduced us to the role of time travel in the development and relevance of the island, a theory that has long been posited as a major aspect of the show. Sawyer's sarcastic question of "So when are we now, Whiz Kid?" is one that we find ourselves asking along with all of the characters as the island, as described by Daniel, is "skipping" around time like a record. We see Locke reverting back to his knife-throwing ways, the reappearance of the heroin plane as it crashed (alas, no appearance of Ecko) and other previous events and occurrences. The overriding question of whether they are stuck in the past and thrust into the future pervades everything that is going on, in a fascinating—rather than an annoying—way.
Back in the "real world," Hurley struggles with sanity, bumping into a virtual Ana Lucia while wearing his new "I Heart My Schitzu" T-shirt. Sayid fights to stay alive and resolve his indentured servitude to Ben, Jack works to regain sobriety and earn back Kate's trust, Kate battles to avoid lawyers who want to take Aaron from her, and Sun conducts shady dealings with Charles Widmore and learns off the "Oceanic Six's" plan to try to return to the island.
As a snapshot, here are just a few of the ever-growing and sometimes-diminishing list of questions that still nag us as we remain glued to the set:
What the hell do the whispers mean or represent?
What is the true nature of Benjamin Linus? Who do we believe regarding his relative goodness or badness?
When are we going to find out more about Charles Widmore and the backstory about his running feud with Ben?
Will Walt and/or Michael somehow come back into this storyline?
What is wrong with Charlotte and was she, in fact, born on the island?
Will Claire continue to play a role after warning Kate not to bring Aaron back?
Why was Charlie not included in any of the flashbacks or pre-premier discussion?
Again, what was the promise that Sawyer asked Kate to keep before he jumped from the helicopter?
What role does Ms. Hawking play in the entire Widmore-Linus conflict?
What are we supposed to believe about Richard, his agelessness and his possible role in Locke's death?
What is at the root of the name Jeremy Bentham?
How are the "Oceanic Six" planning to embark on the process of returning to the island?
Where are Desmond and Penny and how will they be assisting in this effort to go back?
If the first two hours of this season are any indication, we're in for another rip-roaring jaunt around the island, around the world — and across dimenstions.
All of Wolfpack Nation bids a tearful and heartfelt goodbye to longtime women's coach Kay Yow, who succumbed to her long battle against breast cancer at age 66. Her impact on the women she coached and taught, the school she helped define, the sport she worked to catapult into national relevance, and the disease that she aided in raising money for a cure for will never be fully appreciated or completely understood. Yet, true to her nature, her legacy was never something she preferred to talk or think about.
The university, the conference, the city, the state and the nation lost an ever-so-rare hero today. We'll miss your your inspiration, your will, your optimism, and most of all, your smile.
May this morning find you alongside Jimmy V, drawing up Xs and Os in the clouds.
Finally, good riddance to the Retard-in-Chief After eight long years of making us say, "Good grief" Put American lives at risk without a second thought Upon lies, appointments were made and wars were fought No more stupid looks and mispronunciations, what a freaking relief
Another wide receiver acting like a diva bitch His team won, but he didn't care a stitch Instead he whined on his team's final drive While without him the offense did thrive You'd fit in Detroit -- a loser, but rich
13 Oscar nominations for Mr. Benjamin Button The cast celebrated with a dinner of wine and mutton A cool flick with a heart, that combination can't fail A tribute to New Orleans wrapped around a great tale Nearly three hours, but for that punishment I am a glutton
The Triangle woke up to discover a blanket of white Classes cancelled, businesses closed, what a fright Didn't last long, as temperatures climbed the meter But long enough to empty the bread aisle at Harris Teeter Jackasses took to the road, making I-440 quite a sight
Shocking headlines from the scientific space It seems pollution can quicken death's pace So the environment is a big deal after all? Will Congress heed this helpful warning call? Clean air is good? That can't be the case Hope returned to America on one fine day How welcome I just don't have the words to say For eight years, our leader caused pain and fear in the night And yet now we can finally walk boldly out into that light The road is long, but for one day we held cynicism at bay
"Our lives are defined by opportunities -- even the ones we miss."
For me, any discussion of this extraordinary movie comes along with a disclaimer. A couple of years back, I attended a wedding in New Orleans (where this happened) while "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" was in production there. On the way to the rehearsal dinner, traffic was being routed around certain parts of the city because they were filming a night scene. I later learned that they were most likely shooting the Benjamin-Daisy seduction scene in City Park, but ever since that brief coincidence, I've been following the marketing of the movie and keeping tabs on when it might be released.
With David Fincher directing and the remarkable Cate Blanchett ("Daisy") involved, you knew this was going to be a memorable flick, if nothing else. Throw in the tremendous Taraji P. Henson, who has made a career out of stealing scenes, as "Queenie" and an understated Julia Ormond as "Caroline," and the picture starts to take shape. The question surrounded Brad Pitt's casting as "Benjamin Button" as a character fated to live his life in reverse. It's a difficult role that holds the movie together, and Pitt has and always will have questionable — if not iffy — talents as an actor. And since the movie checked in at nearly three hours, if he missed the mark in this one, it could have degenerated into an interminable disaster.
With early- to mid-20th century New Orleans as the backdrop, a period peace that spans the globe, an interweaving of Hurricane Katrina into the plot, some incredible new filming techniques that captures facial deformation and changing, and a short story to base it all off, let's just say "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" was overly ambitious and could have fallen off the tracks in several aspects. Yet, somehow, the ambitious Fincher, together with Pitt and Blanchett, pulls this all off. Like so many sweeping period pieces of this type, perhaps this one will be remembered for being a fascinating tale more than a truly great movie.
There were many moments that were evocative of "Forrest Gump," and the last-words-of-an-essential-story-from-a-dying-woman's-bedside technique has been employed to varying success in "Titanic" and "Evening," among other movies. What helps to set "Benjamin Button" apart, however, are the cinematography that captured stunning sunrises in Lake Pontchartrain and the bayou, the beauty of New Orleans's Garden District, the grandeur of old Manhattan, the sweeping vistas of Paris, and the horrors of war on the Atlantic.
The opening scene shows us a blind clockmaker constructing an enormous clock for a brand-new train station in New Orleans. Having recently lost his son in World War I, the clockmaker designs his masterpiece to count time backwards, in hopes that going back in time will bring back his son and other dying soldiers. We then flash to August 2005, where a woman named Daisy is dying, and her daughter, Caroline is trying to say goodbye as Hurricane Katrina bears down on the Big Easy. Daisy asks her daughter to read to her from a diary that Caroline has never seen, and, predictably, Caroline discovers that her mother loved a whole life she never knew about -- or several lives, to be more accurate.
The story of Benjamin Button really starts in November of 1918, at the end of the first World War. We see a man running through Jackson Square to find his wife, who is dying in childbirth. In her last words, she makes her husband promise to care for the child, to make sure he "has a place." However, when the husband finds a son born with the grotesque appearance of an 86-year-old man, he first tries to throw the child into the Mississippi River, but then abandons him at a nursing home, where he's found by Queenie and her husband. (On a side note, you know how every three years or so, some old lady in Madagascar sees the likeness of the Virgin Mary in a potato chip? Well, the other evening I saw two overcooked potatoes that looked just like Benjamin Button as a child. So … miracles do happen and all that.)
Benjamin suffers many of the problems that one would imagine come along with being an old man trapped in a child's body, but he eventually grows a rip-roaring mullet and leaves New Orleans and his friends, including a young Daisy, behind by becoming a sailor on the tugboat Chelsea. He works under the charismatic and life-loving Captain Mike, who takes the odd and enigmatic Benjamin under his wing and shows him many, many "firsts." In defiance of his seafaring father, Captain Mike is an artist at heart, turning his body into his canvas with myriad tattoos, including a memorable one of a hummingbird. After a secretive, whirlwind affair with the wife of a British spy, Benjamin is thrust into the middle of World War II after the bombing of Pearl Harbor, along with his mates. Tasked with towing damaged American ships back to the country, the Chelsea eventually gets caught up in a firefight and sinks, with Captain Mike and most of the other sailors -- who had become Benjamin's de-facto family -- dying. The hummingbird, who will die if it ever stops flapping its wings, becomes a symbol of death for Benjamin, and after he's rescued, a hummingbird buzzes by him way out at sea.
Upon returning to New Orleans, Benjamin rekindles a friendship with a local button-maker, and unbeknownst to Benjamin, it is his father. Thomas Button has kept tabs on Benjamin throughout his life, and now near death, he reveals his true identity and bequeaths his booming button business to Benjamin. Another return reveals the death of Queenie ("It's a funny thing about comin' home. Looks the same, smells the same, feels the same. You'll realize what's changed is you."), the only family that Benjamin ever really knew. Now backtracking to near middle age, Benjamin pursues a start-and-stop relationship with Daisy, who has become a renowned dancer in New York with a taste for the fast life and easy loves. Eventually, as their ages finally meet in the middle, things click for the two, and the love-affair highlight of Benjamin's life ensues.
However, Benjamin's reaction to news of Daisy's pregnancy is bittersweet. He is haunted by thoughts that he'll be unable to be a father to his child, since he'll be regressing into childhood as his son or daughter grows. Daisy assures him that they'll find a way, but soon after Caroline is born, a strange, awkward scene is presented—without a word, Benjamin looks at his daughter and his wife and silently leaves in the dawn, hopping on his motorcycle and roaring off as Daisy looks on, shocked. To me, it seemed a little too easy for him to just walk away; I would think that the immediate bond that develops between a father and his daughter, and the thought that Benjamin finally has his own true family, would have at least made his decision to walk away more difficult. We know that what he is doing is probably technically best for all involved, but something in his behavior and decision-making process didn't ring true for me.
We follow Benjamin as he runs away to Southeastern Asia and India, among other places, always seeking something he can't quite reach. He eventually returns to New Orleans in 1980, appearing as a 25-year-old, and meets Daisy, who has since remarried, at her dance studio. Later, they share one more evening of passion in his hotel room as the reality that nothing lasts sinks in wistfully. Daisy's departure from the hotel, in which she doesn't speak a word and hardly meets Benjamin's eyes, echoes Benjamin leaving her and Caroline years before. Modern-day Caroline, who is dealing with the reality of the hurricane and her mother's impending death as she's experiencing the emotions of finally learning who her real father is, remembers meeting 25-year-old Benjamin and chastises her mother for keeping the truth from her. However, in the diary, she discovers a stack of touching postcards, one that Benjamin sent for every one of her birthdays, and they each name off another thing he wishes he could have done and experienced as her father.
As she continues reading, she learns of Benjamin's continued regression age- and maturity-wise. Suffering from dementia-like symptoms and homelessness, he eventually becomes a confused child, an angry toddler and then an infant, forcing Daisy to eventually move back into the nursing home to care for him in his final days. Painfully, we are shown Daisy teaching Benjamin to walk and talk, until he eventually gives her a look of recognition and passes away. As Caroline reaches the end of her reading, the hurricane is upon New Orleans and Daisy passes away, with her last action being to see a hummingbird flitting next to her hospital-room window before soaring away into the storm. The final scene is of the old backwards-running clock, sitting in the corner of a dusty basement, as the floodwaters lap at its edges, as Benjamin's final musings on what he learned and what his life meant reach our ears:
"Along the way you bump into people who make a dent on your life. Some people get struck by lightning. Some are born to sit by a river. Some have an ear for music. Some are artists. Some swim the English Channel. Some know buttons. Some know Shakespeare. Some are mothers. And some people can dance."
This was a movie that took nearly 15 years to progress from the idea for a remake to actual release. It was originally slated to be a Ron Howard movie starring John Travolta, eventually passed hands to Spike Jonez to direct, then finally landed in the lap of Fincher, who shot "Zodiac" first, then "Benjamin Button." Pitt likely took on the movie as a tribute to New Orleans, a place he has fallen in love with and has made a personal crusade to try to save.
I was unaware that this flick was "loosely based" on a short story by F. Scott Fitzgerald, written in 1921. In the book, Benjamin actually lives with his father instead of being abandoned by him, and he goes on to attend Harvard and become a football star until the demands of growing young make it impossible for him to compete or handle the workload. He fights in the Spanish-American War, gets married, has a son and is eventually cared for by that son as he grows younger and younger—eventually even attending kindergarten with his grandson.
I expected New Orleans to play an even larger role in this film, and based on the trailers, I expected it to be a little creepier. However, those expectations were happily discarded, and replaced by a near-epic masterwork of cinema magic. There are holes here and there and the obvious pervasive suspension of disbelief … but if you allow yourself to get swept away by the floodwaters and caught up in the tides of history and lost in the beauty of the bayou and of the intangible quality of those moments in our lives that are impactful in their purity and melancholy in their fleetingness, you'll let yourself believe for a moment.
And you'll be rewarded with an incredible movie experience.
Symbolically, I'm hoping this clean snow that blankets us helps to cover up and wash away all the disgraceful mistakes and deceit of the last eight years.
I had toyed with the idea of attending Barack Obama's inauguration later today, but it seems about 2 million people beat me to the punch, and logistically, it just didn't work out. Since I can't be there, I'll think out loud of my hopes for what today could mean.
I hope our new leader can enhance and build on the good will and sense of optimism he's created. I hope America begins to earn back respect -- it takes years to earn and one decision to throw it all away -- around the world. I hope the economy begins to turn around and friends and loved ones who worry about their jobs will gradually have their concerns eased. I hope there is a real commitment to addressing environmental concerns so we don't leave a smoking shell for our grandchildren. I hope partisan politics takes a backseat to problems that can only be solved by multiparty collaboration. I hope we take accountability for our embarrassing behavior in the world's eyes. I hope we have the creativity and wherewithal to end this war peacefully and bring our dedicated troops back home. I hope we center our focus on an educational system that is falling behind in some areas and broken in others. I hope we remember New Orleans and stop treating her like someone we gave up on long ago. I hope we address immigration in a way that allows all parties to retain their human dignity and sense of decency. I hope the move toward volunteerism and charitable efforts takes hold. I hope the promise of an amazing nation is realized, and the wasted and damaging actions of recent years is erased from the collective memory. I hope Obama turns out to be who I think he is.
But most all, I hope. And it feels good just to be able to do that again.
A season premier numbering hours of four So much action an ADDer wouldn't think it a bore A terrorist has control over the U.S. A government dealing with a conspiracy mess No, it's not "Groundhog Day," it's "24"
The Ravens let other teams fall on their sword So many thugs and convicts, you say, "Dear lord" The Cards left Delhomme with nothing to do but cry The Iggles keep advancing, thanks to that choker Eli The Steelers are so complete they almost make you bored
Last place in the ACC and still ranked five The undefeated season has taken a nosedive A team full of me-first prima donnas Get pedicures and hang out in saunas They've gone off the tracks like a car Phil Ford might drive
The Triangle to get nailed by an arctic blast Temps under 30, who knows how long it will last It's about time that it feels like winter around here Water and milk will be gone thanks to widespread fear If you share the road with terrified drivers, best to go fast Against all odds, finally a role-model Seminole Much to learn from the story of one Myron Rolle He's decided to attend Oxford as a Rhodes scholar Instead of chasing the NFL's almighty dollar Not even Bobby Bowden could turn him into an asshole
A team strong of body, but with a mind weak After 11 straight ACC losses, just a win they seek The freshmen at least play like they care The upperclassmen don't give Elon a scare Sorry, Javy, but like a bad burrito, you reek
1. "On the Road,"by Jack Kerouac The vision of Dean Moriarity hunched over the steering wheel, head stuck out the window, hurtling across the nation with a leer, is one of the most profound and enduring images in all of American literature. The book that cemented and defined the beat movement, Kerouac's tome—which he wrote in a staggering three weeks—seized me in a way that no book has since I read "Lord of the Flies" in a single night as a sophomore in high school. My only lament is that it took me so long to discover this masterpiece, which informed and defined an entire generation of artists. "On the Road" may just have become the best book that I have ever read.
Passage to remember: "So in America when the sun goes down and I sit on the old broken-down river pier watching the long, long skies over New Jersey and sense all that raw land that rolls in one unbelievable huge bulge over to the West Coast, and all that road going, all the people dreaming in the immensity of it, and in Iowa I know by now the children must be crying in the land where they let the children cry, and tonight the stars'll be out, and don't you know that God is Pooh Bear? the evening star must be drooping and shedding her sparkler dims on the prairie, which is just before the coming of complete night that blesses the earth, darkens the rivers, cups the peaks and folds the final shore in, and nobody, nobody knows what's going to happen to anybody besides the forlorn rags of growing old, I think of Dean Moriarty, I even think of old Dean Moriarty the father we never found, I think of Dean Moriarty."
2. "Water for Elephants,"by Sara Gruen A poignant and lively tale that encompasses the wistfulness of growing old, the dreams of forgotten youth and the tangible beauty of the in-between, "Water for Elephants" was a delightful surprise to read. It's amazing qualities held even more meaning to me since the first draft of this book was written by Gruen in a month-long novel-writing contest called NanoWrimo, which I have participated in and completed. The adventures of Jacob Jankowski (partially based on the biblical story of Jacob) as a love-struck veterinarian, balanced against his funeral-home fight to retain his relevance, makes for one of the more memorable reads of 2008.
Passage to remember: “My real stories are all out of date. So what if I can speak firsthand about the Spanish flu, the advent of the automobile, world wars, cold wars, guerrilla wars, and Sputnik-that’s all ancient history now. But what else do I have to offer? Nothing happens to me anymore.”
3. "The Audacity of Hope," by Barack Obama I'm not here to tell you that "The Audacity of Hope" is a quintessential literary achievement; I'm not going to posit that it boasts sweeping turns of phrase or heart-stopping prose. But I am here to tell you that, in sheer terms of powerful messaging and ability to restore a little optimism to a wounded country, yes, Obama's book represented a defining occasion for this year. On a personal level, this book ranks here on this list due to the effect that it had on me, as someone who was searching for a brave candidate capable of holding up a searchlight in our nation's befuddled, painful darkness. I read it, and I knew.
Passage to remember: "For I am getting to an age where I have a sense of what satisfies me, and although I am perhaps more tolerant of compromise … I know that my satisfaction is not to be found in the glare of television cameras or the applause of the crowd. Instead, it seems to come more often now from knowing that in some demonstrable way I've been able to help people live their lives with some measure of dignity. I think of what Benjamin Franklin wrote to his mother, explaining why he had devoted so much of his time to public service: 'I would rather have it said, He lived usefully, than, He died rich.'"
4. "Dubliners," by James Joyce I had been disappointed in my own relative lack of familiarity with this landmark author, and with a trip to Ireland upcoming, I took it upon myself to check out the catalog of one of Dublin's most famous natives. "Dubliners" is a collection of short stories and sketches, making it a much less daunting read than the epic "Ulysses." It certainly piqued my interest in Joyce, added to the excitement of visiting his museum in Dublin and helped prepare for some day tackling "Ulysses" (*gulp*).
Passage to remember (from "The Dead"): "His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead."
5. "Duma Key,"by Stephen King This King novel is very much a psychological thriller, and while there were points at the end where I felt the story broke down somewhat, it was one of the better King efforts I have read of late. Edgar Freemantle had his highly successful life, career and family taken away from him in a horrific accident, but in exchange, he has discovered an incredible artistic gift. The pursuit of this new talent leads him to an isolated area of the Florida Keys, where he discovers his true self, a portal to an older world and many mysteries. One has to think that this is another King tome that is informed by his own personal brush with death in the late '90s, and it's a very enjoyable and worthwhile read.
Passage to remember: "How do we remember to remember? That's a question I've asked myself often since my time on Duma Key, often in the small hours of the morning, looking up into the absence of light, remembering absent friends. Sometimes in those little hours I think about the horizon. You have to establish the horizon. You have to mark the white. A simple enough act, you might say, but any act that re-makes the world is heroic. Or so I've come to believe."
Editor's Note: I also made my way through Ernest Hemingway's "A Farewell to Arms," but I was underwhelmed, as I often am in turning back to Ernie. I also tried to hammer through "Armies of the Night" by Norman Mailer, but I gave up halfway through. I figgered I deal with enough pretentiousness, in writing and otherwise, to the point where I don't need to invite it into my spare time. "Meat Market" by Bruce Feldman was a quick, easy read about the ugly truths involved in college football recruiting, especially in the SEC, written from within the confines of former coach Ed Orgeron's Ole Miss program. Also, most of the latter part of '08 involved me slogging my way through "War and Peace" by Leo Tolstoy, with the fruits being much worth the work.
