The Essential Nick Campbell

let them build the biggest sandcastles.

2009-10-21T04:27:00.002-05:00

As one of the many that feel they are staring into the brink of what could be Hollywood calamity, the "Media Maverick" posted a warning to all the cogs in the industry machine, playing soothsayer to the studios' Caeser and positioning the internet as its conspiratorial assassin. This foretelling of doom, however, is a bit overwrought. Although kudos go to the Media Maverick for including the "apocalyptic rantings of Silicon Valley propeller heads" line so that it seems like any naysaying belongs to the ignorant buffoon who refused to heed the warning of the vague Ides of March deadline.

Yes, parallel industries are collapsing under their own weights. Newspapers and music vendors have seen dramatic drop-offs over the past few years as they transition into less bloated, more-with-the-times versions of their former selves. Hollywood seems positioned for the same fate as the internet Changes Every Aspect of Our Very Lives. However, to say this is something that should instill horror and a downward-spiral of depression is a little premature.

The supposition that the entire viewing audience is ready to jump into watching all their television exclusively online, via pirated material even, is preposterous. With Hulu still a relative unknown (despite heavy marketing pushes) and the ever-present "digital divide," heck, even DVR penetration is only at 33 percent, it would take a leap of faith to believe the entire audience is ready to watch their stories on the computer, let alone hook it up to their television. That's not to say the transition won't happen. It'll just happen a lot slower than many of the soothsayers would have their readers believe.

What these editorials should be saying to Hollywood is that NOW is the time to act.

The transition to a user-set schedule empowered by the internet will generally impact the television market hardest. Through hard times movie theatres abide since they are an event. No one has a movie theatre quite like the local multiplex in house and Transformers isn't the same on a smaller screen with tinnier speakers.

Media Maverick's article cites a young woman who catches up on Mad Men through a non-studio-sanctioned site. The idea is that these sites contain the collected volumes of a wider selection of entertainment by holding libraries of properties from various sources, eschewing windowing agreements (like when Hulu only provides the last five episodes of a show so they don't conflict with DVD sales). And while this might be true for "Alexandra," there's still time to establish a place on the internet for the far more prevalent number of people still on the internet-TV sidelines. There are a few things Hollywood should look at.

Fully embrace television properties on the internet: First things first -- studios have to admit this TV on the web thing is a good idea. Not only does it allow for more people to see it on their own schedule, it lets new viewers catch up on a series on their schedule without terrible expenditure. Think of the drop-off curve for series like Lost or 24 and how much more shallow that curve would be had this been available to everyone earlier in the life of the series. A viewer wouldn't have to debate buying DVDs or even renting for a show they don't know they'll even enjoy. Instead they can happily enjoy a show with commercials without any risk on their part. And the possibilities in mining viewer demographic information alone should be enough for the industry to shove people onto the internet. The web has been able to get better data on users/audience since its inception, from approximate geographic location (via IP address and ISP location) to browsing trends (via cookies) to windowing (via browser/client announcements). Layer a user profile into the mix and, suddenly, the possibility of targeted marketing is a reality and a viewer can watch commercials that actually matter to the viewer. The trouble with the audience using DVRs to fast-forward through ads evaporates when the viewer can be singled-out for products and services that matter to him/her individually. Networks will wonder how they ever got by with stone-age blanket marketing. Keep DVDs around for people who want a hard copy when they aren't around reliable internet but make shows available to the people so they can watch those commercials again and again. And again.

Stop looking at illegal sites as terrorists and see them as competition: If there is anything studios know about is how to deal with competition. The industry has spent far too much time trying to shut down the illegal sites and not enough time examining why they are popular. Many of these sites are run by individuals or small groups. Though the narrative is appealing, these small pockets undermining the conglomerate, with its army of workers and reams of cash, should be a long shot, especially if the conglomerate can identify why people go to these sites instead of using traditional methods of watching (TV) or legitimate sites (Hulu, Joost). People go because they can find more episodes of the shows they want to watch; expand the library. People go to avoid commercials; offer limited commercial interruption or commercials they actually would like to see (see above). And then the conglomerate can provide things the illegal sites can't. There's always an encoding turnaround (since the illegal sites have to record the show then turn that recording into an internet file) so offer an episode simultaneously to the broadcast and cut out the middle man. Offer higher quality video, exclusive content (outtakes, behind-the-scenes, etc), recommendations for other shows, maps and guides for the more complicated storylines on television. The opportunity to improve on what these little guys are doing is sitting in the open. Networks just need to capitalize.

Let the people build sandcastles: If there is anything that can be learned from Twitter's astronomic rise in the past three years it is that closing doors and building barriers does not make for a successful web venture. So much of Twitter is created and influenced by the user and the people at Twitter proper let it happen organically, opening doors to inspire more development, codifying the stuff that works, embracing the natural progression of the service. What about a Hulu API? Why not build a giant sandbox for developers to play in, using the different television properties, the already-present tools people can use to embed and share clips, and include more ways for people to develop on top of the site. Let them build giant sandcastles using your sand. Let Hulu and Joost propagate across the internet in ways that are unimaginable to comparatively technological plebeians. Open up the windows so mobile users and other devices can spread these television properties (and the commercials that go with them) around like so many appleseeds. Look at what Netflix is doing and know that the networks can do that, too, only without the subscription barrier.

In the end, it's not the future described in the Media Maverick article that can be contested but rather its dystopic vibe. Don't get lulled into thinking change is not coming but don't get fooled into believing all is lost. This is an opportunity.

finales without finality.

2009-06-15T08:39:00.004-05:00

1 year, 8 months, and 14 days ago, Pushing Daisies premiered on ABC, introducing a show with bright colors and a quick-talking cast much in the tradition of Brian Fuller's previous gifts to television. Narrated by the guy who narrated those Walgreen commercials, there was a storybook feel to it, the cast speaking in overly-constructed, almost archaic structure spiced with modernity, like an adult fable minus the "adult" connotation. Positivity in a sea of bleak, saturated police procedurals. Unique. Original. Cancelled mid-2nd season.

Lots of shows get cancelled, especially in today's landscape (as Bill Lawrence said at the "Produced By" conference: "A hit is a show that you manage to keep on the air.") Lots of Brian Fuller's shows get cancelled (Wonderfalls, Dead Like Me). It's a scary landscape for television these days to hang on to a show that isn't performing as well as American Idol or The Mentalist. But the fans suffer.

Television isn't like a book or a movie, mostly because of the spelling. But also because television properties are generally episodic. Books and movies are self-contained; one sits and takes in the whole story within a specified unit. Television, on the other hand, has to deal with constant scrutiny as its story develops. If the investors think the story is underperforming (from a business standpoint at least), the story gets broken off in the middle. The justification is that no one is watching it so why not fill the space with something that people like?

And that's the industry. We've grown up with that mentality in television, even grown accustomed to its escalating brutality. When a sit-com gets dropped, some people are sad but accept the nature of the beast. It's just business.

Some shows, however, keep people involved not just with clever situations every week but a continuing storyline and developing characters. That's the power of episodic television, to create these sprawling worlds full of any number of endearing (or malevolent) characters for an audience to fall in love with in a way films are incapable of doing. How can a film compete with 22(ish) hours a season? Audiences become invested over years of living with a character. Great for business. But then, when statistics start to show audiences are dropping off and there's some negative feedback on the Greatest Though Slightly Inaccurate Feedback Engine Ever Conceived, the interwebs, studios feel forced to make a decision. And the fans who stick around despite the falling numbers suffer.

Using this same Feedback Engine, the fans have started to coalesce, starting movements to save programming that may be on the bubble. Chuck is a recent example that used Twitter (and the #savechuck hashtag), websites (renewchuck.com), and even lots and lots of boxes of Nerds candy sent to NBC. NBC ended up bringing Chuck back (on a limited budget and only buying a 13-episode slate for a show going into its third season). Other shows, like Pushing Daisies, aren't so lucky.

So the fans are deprived of the ending. Sure, there is an end in that existential, everything-has-an-end kind of way. But you look back on shows like M*A*S*H that had such an emotional ending and even Mad About You (seriously) with such a creative end to give the fans (or the fans they had left) some peace. Newhart did a great job, ending its show with a wink to Bob Newhart's longtime fans of his previous show. There are other shows that fritter that power away (Fresh Prince of Bel-Air comes to mind with its Will-turns-the-lights-out ending, or even The Cosby Show with its over-emotional Boyz II Men "It's So Hard to Say Goodbye to the Cosby Show" ending), sometimes even on purpose (I'm looking at you, Seinfeld). But there are some shows that aren't even given the opportunity to fritter.

Carnivàle. The title alone should strike a "Yes!" chord in so many on this subject. Such lofty goals, such a driving force, a show finally getting its act together, HBO had trouble sustaining a show that traveled across the dust, setting up full, working carnivals all the time. But season 2 ends with what everyone has been waiting for only to see nothing come to fruition. There was talk for a while that the rest of the storyline would come out in comic book form (much like what Joss Whedon would do for Buffy, Season 8, later) but that never happened (that I know of ...).

But that brings up an interesting point. Should these cancelled shows with a fanbase be allowed to continue the storyline in an alternative format? Would it be feasible to bring that fanbase to the emerging internet television market? Put out a book, a graphic novel, a movie, a radio show, something to finish the story? ABC allowed Pushing Daisies to rework the last three episodes so that it could sum up every storyline in the last five minutes of its series finale, drastically different from the ornate storytelling to which viewers were accustomed. Would it have been better to release a book (a pop-up book?) to let the story finish naturally instead of this unceremonious sum-uppy coda? Media has become so diversified (stratified?) that there are more outlets than ever to push out a product. So, I suppose the real question is: is there any money in transferring a dying brand to a different medium to live out its last days?

i don't know what to write here.

2009-06-04T21:05:00.006-05:00

Seriously, I don't.

It's been a year since I've posted in this blog. That's not to say nothing has happened or I've not had anything to say. Sadly (or gloriously, depending on your perspective), a lot of the "random thought" initiatives that brought about so many blog posts have been the subjects of titleless nanoblogging, making a blog the new internet "long-form" (blogs : Twitter :: Virgil : E E Cummings). So, with there being a more appropriate outlet for off-the-cuff remarks, this blog becomes what a blog already has for so many: an opportunity to plan and write short essays.

But what about? Do I make it about one subject? Should that one subject be me? Film? Television? Writing? Should it include expanded versions of my tweets (Synergy!)? Should I wait until I have something to get off my chest, grumble about it for days, and then compose a lengthy invective/praise?

Platitudes? Should I come up with some platitudes to discuss, such as my thoughts on getting older, fading beauty, kids these days? Should I be more personal, discuss my graduating college 10 years after I started, finally starting the life I always wanted to live, my continued obsession with distraction? My constant disappointment in pop culture? The unique experience of living in downtown Atlanta, an urban environment by all appearances but without most of the conveniences?

Maybe something I usually never write about. I've never been inspired to write about politics, which leads people to believe I have none. Maybe this is an opportunity to write about the things people don't believe are part of my personality. Although that would leave me with just talking about politics and sex. So many people that don't believe I have sex. I do. Sex. It used to get me into trouble.

I tried posting my writing up here for a while but heard nothing back about that. Not even spam. I also realized that (a) what I was writing about was terribly uninteresting to anyone else (really niche audience), (b) what I was writing about I had only the vaguest idea of what I was discussing, but, most importantly, (c) nobody cares, Nick.

I don't have a plan. I do like the title "The Essential Nick Campbell" and it still comes up in the top 10 Google results when one searches for Nick Campbell (listed under the more prolific Nick Campbells). So maybe that should be my theme. I should post things that are essential to the understanding of Nick Campbell and/or Nick Campbell's oeuvre. Not every piece that comes from his (excuse me, my) desk but the stuff I feel is important. I'll leave my ephemeral complaints about MARTA and my charmed comments about Gilmore Girls for Twitter. Here will be the organized, beefier versions of my thoughts, sometimes even narrativized (word? I think so).

But what are the chances I'll actually decide on what to write here?

a surprising first.

2008-05-14T00:52:00.003-05:00

I know I'm a relatively intelligent person but I've never been evaluated to any impressive results at any point of my academic career. But, with the final grades from last semester in, I've finally done it. Nick Campbell got straight As for the first time in his life. You're totally surprised, aren't you? How has Nick Campbell gone through his entire life and NOT gotten straight As?

I imagine it has something to do with my wanting to play video games and jump on the trampoline instead of studying in high school. Those things may actually have had a lot of impact on my first year in college, too (minus the trampoline). To a lesser extent I could blame my fake autism (which isn't real autism -- just a collection of antisocial behavior and a lack of conventional communication skills that makes you think, "Is there something wrong here?").

I have a bar now. It has been set. I can get straight As. And I have. I present to you: Nick Campbell, Sometimes Overestimated but Slowly Climbing Toward the Goals Set by the Self-Imposed Pressure of His Perception of His Genius Super Student, Maker of All As.

(pt 11)

2008-04-03T01:54:00.000-05:00

[continued:]

[David, Squibs and Rob sit on the couches at David's apartment, staring at the blank television. David's apartment is what one would expect of a one-bedroom in which he lives alone: not a sanitary hazard but essentially minor squalor with mismatched furniture, barren cupboards but an impressive movie collection.]

[continued]

examples of promos if i were to host Saturday Night Live.

2008-03-30T19:03:00.007-05:00

[EDIT]

an open letter to olivia munn.

2008-03-29T10:01:00.004-05:00

Olivia --

While watching a recent episode of your program, a few questions came to mind that hopefully you can answer for me.

Come clean, Munn. I know it's not widely acceptable for females in Hollywood to say in the open whether or not they've had work done to their appearance but it's time you dealt us the truth. Do you have robot eyes? Don't deny it.
Are you afraid someone is going to paste your face over someone else's body and try to pass it off as you -- like the next time you look up "Two Girls One Cup" you'll see a video of you doing work on a mug?
Does the behind-the-scenes activity on your set play out more like Sports Night, Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip or West Wing?
Are you as bored as I am during the "In Your Pants" segments? I'm not sure what I expect for those pieces but with the build-up, everyone saying girls are going in my pants throughout your broadcast and then the the intro with a young woman moaning I always feel deflated when it's just about a guy being disinterested in his partners. It seems like a lot of hype. Take a page from Sue Johanson's book or read Regina Lynn's columns and explore Nerd Sex a little more. Teledildonics is fast-growing field.
G4 employs a great many good-looking women as hosts and your show awkwardly tries to squeeze in as many segments as possible featuring half-naked models. Do you feel the reason for this is to balance out the scary folk showing up on Cops and Cheaters (aka the other 85% of programming on your network)?
Who would win in a decathlon of host duties: Kevin Pereira or Joel McHale (there will be a physical challenge involved -- much like Double Dare)?

Thank you for your time, your patience and your understanding. I hope you'll take some of my suggestions to heart. I'm telling you: teledildonics. It's like sex without all that bothersome 'leaving the house' nonsense.

(pt 10)

2008-03-26T23:50:00.003-05:00

[continued:]

[Inside the restuarant Rob works at after close, the first shoot is being set up. Squibs oversees Ryan and Sam setting up the equipment and cheap lighting equipment while David goes over lines with Kyle and Beth, both of whom are dressed with matching uniforms and waist aprons. Rob talks to a large part of his fellow staff who are acting as extras.]

[continued]

(pt 9)

2008-03-20T00:04:00.002-05:00

[continued:]

[Squibs, Rob and Beth Austin sit in Squibs's living room joined by two other men: a tall young man of medium build and classicly handsome features named KYLE and another man, fit and with a larger frame, named VICTOR. They sit facing each other in stools and chairs in a semi-circle around the couch. There is a long awkward silence. Finally the phone rings to break quiet and Rob picks it up almost immediately.]

ROB: Where are you?

[David is driving, phone to his ear.]

DAVID: How'd you know it was me?
ROB: Where. Are you.
DAVID: I'm passing by the Dunkin Donuts now. I'll be there in a couple minutes.
ROB: You know we're all sitting here staring at each other, waiting on you.
DAVID: Who's there right now?
ROB: Everyone. Me and Squibs. Vicks and Kyle. Beth has been here for almost forty-five minutes now.
DAVID: Oh really? Didn't we say 11?
ROB: 10.
DAVID: Are you sure?
ROB: Everyone else got here by 10.
DAVID: Because I could have sworn --
SQUIBS: [whispering] Where is he?
ROB: [mouths "Close" to Squibs; then speaks aloud to David] 10, dude. We said 10.
DAVID: 11. Well, I'm almost there so I'll see you momentarily. [As David goes through a green light, sounds from the crosswalk signals pierce the air to aid the visually-impaired in crossing the street.]
ROB: Wait, are those the chirps from the crosswalks? Are you still downtown?
DAVID: Well, yeah, but I'm almost --
ROB: Come on, man!
DAVID: It's not that big a WHOA!

[David swerves then quickly corrects himself, the sound of a car horn blaring from a growing distance.]

DAVID: I almost just got into a car accident.
ROB: That's great.
DAVID: And it wouldn't have even been a cool one. It was one that was easily preventable. That was lame. I'm going to get off the phone.
ROB: Get here faster. [hangs up the phone; to everyone else] He'll be here shortly. Sorry for the wait.
KYLE: [after another awkward pause] So your name is Beth?
BETH: Yeah, I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name the first time.
KYLE: Oh, Kyle. Kyle Wedge.
BETH: [to herself] Kyle. Kyle Wedge. [then to him] Nice to meet you.
KYLE: You, too. Have you ever done anything like this before?
BETH: No, not really. I mean I've done plays at school and things like that but never a movie. Have you?
KYLE: I've worked with these guys before on some smaller things.
BETH: Oh. Okay. And you're playing --
KYLE: I'm playing not the fiancee.
BETH: Oh. So I guess you and I are about to get a lot closer then, right?
KYLE: [laughs] Yeah, I guess so.
VICTOR: I'm Victor by the way.
BETH: I know.
ROB: All right we're going to start up without David. Sorry to keep you guys waiting. So, what you have in your hand is a vast majority of the script. We're still working on some details with the ending.
SQUIBS: [to Rob] Do you really hate the idea of her being married the whole time?
ROB: It's too much. We can talk about it later. Let's do a table read. You know, minus the table.

[Everyone laughs lightly and readies their scripts. Rob starts to flip through.]

ROB: Did you all have a chance to go through at least some of it? [everyone makes some signal of affirmation] What'd you guys think?
KYLE: It's certainly different.
ROB: Than our other stuff? I know. We thought we'd try to make something people actually liked for once.
VICTOR: So, pretty much, the fiancee is not really in most of it.
ROB: He's here and there. We've got some web cam sequences where you're talking to Beth from overseas. You're around in the beginning and you'll probably be present a lot more in the end, depending on what ending we decide on.
SQUIBS: Possibly even married the whole time.
ROB: Not that. [turns to Beth] Okay, Beth: what did you think?
BETH: I thought it was good. I read the sex scenes. I thought they were really hot.
ROB: Yeah, David wrote those. They really have to be perfect.
BETH: [to Kyle] Oh, so no pressure or anything, right?
KYLE: Right?
ROB: We know we picked the right people for this so we're not worried. The real question is are you comfortable with them?
KYLE: Me? I'm great.
ROB: Not you, goofus.
BETH: I'm fine with them. They seem tasteful and, like I said, really hot.
ROB: Great. Good. That's really good. Okay, you guys want to get started reading?
KYLE: Is there a place you want us to pick up from?
ROB: Um, yeah. Let's start early on. There are a couple scenes I want to see -- if they work or not. Let's go to page twenty: the first time Beth goes to Kyle's house. I want to see how this scene juxtaposes with the proposal scene later.
KYLE: Okay. Should I just start with "Here it is?"
ROB: Yeah, sounds great.
KYLE: All right.

[Kyle gives Beth a small nod and she nods back. Their voices transform into performance type: louder, clearer, more articulate and with emotion.]

KYLE: Well, here it is.
BETH: Wow, it's huge.
KYLE: Yeah, I got a little scared the first time I walked in here.
BETH: It's also ... you can tell a bunch of guys live here.
KYLE: Yeah, I just have no idea what to do with the space. I can't decide on anything.
BETH: Just needs a woman's touch is all.
KYLE: Something like that. So -- do you want the tour?
BETH: Sure.
KYLE: I mean, you can basically see everything already. Up these stairs is the kitchen and my roommate's bedroom. The living room is down here and the bathroom is right over there. My other roommate's bedroom is right here and up those stairs is my bedroom.
BETH: Can I take a look?
KYLE: Um, yeah, sure, of course.
ROB: They go upstairs. Kyle doesn't even have a door and two of his walls are actually large pieces of plywood nailed to a 2x4 frame so they can stand freely on the floor. Otherwise the room is neatly kept with a queen-sized bed, a computer desk and modern furniture.
BETH: Do you not have walls?
KYLE: This is actually just supposed to be like lofted extra space or something. Someday I hope I'll have walls.
BETH: What do you do for privacy?
KYLE: Oh, I don't mind really. It's not like I have anthing to hide.
BETH: Oh really?
KYLE: Yeah, it's pretty much a one-man show up here.
ROB: There is a small pause after Kyle's self-deprecating joke. He puts his hand on his stomach.
KYLE: Are you hungry? I'm starving.
BETH: Well, I --
ROB: Oh, am I keeping you from something? Sorry about tha--
BETH: Oh, no no. I just, you know, have this boyfriend that's supposed to be coming into town this weekend and I should be getting home and clean or something, I guess.
KYLE: Oh, I didn't know you had a boyfriend.
BETH: Yeah, well, I think I might be breaking up with him soon.
KYLE: Oh, really? That's too bad.
BETH: I guess that depends on how you look at it.

[Rob and Squibs laugh to themselves. The two break character as Rob interrupts them.]

ROB: Great. That was really cool. I think we just need to make sure that she's being flirty and he is kind of clumsily catching on. This guy really isn't all that smooth and doesn't totally realize that she's hitting on him.
BETH: Even though she came up to his bedroom and is talking about breaking up with her boyfriend?
ROB: Do you think that he should catch on?
BETH: I don't know. Is he that dumb?
ROB: We're going to say yes.
KYLE: He's not a stupid guy though.
ROB: No, just, you know, oblivious to this kind of thing.
KYLE: Okay cool.
ROB: All right, let's move on to the proposal scene. Rainy in the park on Valentine's Day.
BETH: So cheesy.
ROB: That's the point. He's romantic but in a very conventional way.
SQUIBS: He's just like a guy's guy and he's doing what he thinks he's supposed to do. Valentine's Day equals romantic.
ROB: Right. So, Vicks, if you want to pick it up as they're walking along the park path.
VICTOR: Yeah, all right.

[Victor clears his throat and straightens his back, slightly poking his chest out. David comes in sometime during their dialogue.]

VICTOR: Well, at least it's stopped raining for a little bit.
BETH: Yeah. You know we could have just stayed at home. We didn't have to go out for a walk today.
VICTOR: I really wanted to get out into the open for a bit.
BETH: You don't think they'll have open space at the base?
VICTOR: Not like this. Not with you.
BETH: Aww.
VICTOR: I'm going to miss you, Beth. I'm going to worry about you all the time.
BETH: You're going to worry about me? I should be worried about you. You're the one travelling to a foreign country.
VICTOR: I know, but, you're going to be here all alone. I'm always going to be wondering what you're doing.
BETH: That's sweet.
ROB: Victor stops and looks onto one of the hills.
VICTOR: Hey, isn't that the spot you like so much?
BETH: Yeah, my little tree.
VICTOR: You want to go up there?
BETH: It's a little muddy I think.
VICTOR: No, come on. It'll be fun. You can get a little dirty.
ROB: Victor all but pulls Beth behind him as he races into the muddy grass and up the hill to the tree. At some point, Beth lets go of his hand as she tries to tread lightly through the wet grass and muck as to not splash herself with wet dirt. She meets Victor up there, who suddenly looks nervous.
BETH: What's going on?
VICTOR: You know that I love you, right?
BETH: Yeah?
VICTOR: And me being shipped off is not my decision.
BETH: You did join the Army.
VICTOR: But, you know --
BETH: I know, I know.
VICTOR: I want to spend all my time with you, all the time. And, hopefully, you'll want to make a life with me.
BETH: Vick, what's --?
VICTOR: Beth --
ROB: He falls to one knee with a squish.
VICTOR: -- will you marry me?
BETH: Oh, Vick.
VICTOR: It doesn't have to be right now. Although if you wanted it to be right now I think we could do it in the next couple of weeks before I leave. But we can wait for me to come back or you can come out and live with me or I don't know. I just want to be with you.
ROB: Beth looks down at the work shirt she's wearing, sporting the logo of the company at which she works with her new friend Kyle. She hesitates for a moment before looking back into his eyes. She's never been able to say no to him.
BETH: Yes, Vick. Of course I'll marry you.

[David hits Squibs on the arms.]

SQUIBS: What?
DAVID: You snuck in that line about being able to get married before he ships out.
SQUIBS: So sue me. I think it's a good idea.
DAVID: It's not going to happen. It's ridiculous. Who does that?
SQUIBS: People do it.
ROB: What'd you guys think of those scenes? Do you think they work well together? Does one seem far-fetched because of the other?
BETH: I think it's fine. I mean, when they're talking on the phone earlier you can tell that Victor has this power of her. So, like, even if she didn't want to get married she probably would because she can't say no.
ROB: Good, good. Okay. Well, I know that you have to get to work by 11:30 Vicks so I guess we'll just do a couple more scenes and then wrap it up for today. I think we should all thank Mr Ten O'Clock here for showing up.
DAVID: 11. Sorry for getting here after you guys. It sounds great. I think we're only going to do one more of these before we start shooting next week so if there are any scenes you guys have questions with or anything, let's try to work them out before we start rolling.
SQUIBS: But, real quick, by a show of hands, who thinks the idea of her getting married and being married the whole time is an awesome plot twist.
DAVID: No one, Squibs. No one. Just stop it. You're embarrassing yourself.
ROB: All right, let's go to the first web cam scene.

[continued]

on being a schmuck.

2008-03-16T07:33:00.004-05:00

I saw this thread on Lifehacker about being a good tipper and have to say I'm pretty embarrassed about the tipping habits listed in the comments.

20% is minimum. It's also a lot easier to calculate. If you're going the extra mile to figure out 15% (Divide the bill by 10 and then divide that amount by 2, then add them together) you are a schmuck. Just divide the bill by 10 and double it. Include drinks (they were served to you, weren't they?). Include tax (what's it going to do, bump your tip up a a dollar?). And round up for crissake.

By tipping less all you're doing is making the wait server mad. It's not constructive criticism. You just look like a schmuck that doesn't know how to tip. If you really have bad service and you can't give the server the benefit of the doubt (busy night, training, close relative passed away that morning), talk to the server or, if necessary, talk to the manager. Granted, I probably would never do this but poor tipping says nothing but "I'm cheap."

I pretty much adhere to this for everyone in the service industry when I'm tipping on top of a bill/fare. Attendants, carry out people, hotel service I can see tipping three, four, five dollars (depending on the estblishment) but restaurant service is 20% at least.

Also: If you split the check between people with cash and people with cards and play the "take the cash out, put the rest on the card(s)" game, make sure the people with cards tip on the WHOLE BILL. If it's one person, they should be tipping on the whole bill for everyone. If it's more than one person filling out receipts, make sure they collectively write enough tip in for the person to be paid properly. I'm told that whenever a server hears "take the cash out, put the rest on the card" they know they're getting a terrible tip due to confusion.

tornado ... or the cloverfield?

2008-03-15T12:26:00.002-05:00

Downtown Storm Was EF-2 Tornado [WXIA]
Confirmed: Atlanta storm a tornado [CNN]
Severe wind storm strikes Atlanta [BBC News]

I was on the East/West line, right at Georgia State station somewhere between 9:30 and 10:00 last night. The train stopped just after leaving the platform and the announcer came over the loudspeaker. "Ladies and gentlemen, a tornado has just touched down in the area. We have to clear the tracks before continuing." Immediately, all of my fellow passengers got up to a window to look out. I was skeptical. My entire life, my mom, a woman who has claimed to live through many tornados in her time, always told me they sounded like trains rumbling across the ground. I couldn't really hear a sound outside of the car so I assumed there was a better chance of the Cloverfield monster attacking Atlanta than a tornado. After taking a quick glance out the window, I went back to reading my book.

We were just outside of Grady Hospital and the scene on the highway was of flashing blue and red lights. The rest was darkness.

The train started and stopped several times, presumably to allow people to clear off more of the track. A ride that usually takes five minutes took twenty before reaching Inman Park Station. Many of the buildings on the south side of the track I don't know very well, and a lot of it is a train yard. But between King Memorial and Inman Park is a building that I'm very familiar with (since it's right near my house): the Fulton Cotton Mill Lofts. People started to gasp as we passed it and I saw a corner of the building completely collapsed. Everyone kept asking what building it was so they could tell the people at the other ends of their phone conversations what was wrecked.

I was still convinced it was wind damage. I walked home in the rain through a dark Inman Park. People were standing outside Shawn's as if they were going to wait out the storm and still make their reservations. Streetlights were off, lightning flashed through the sky and only the faint flicker of candles coming from windows let me know that I wasn't in Omega Man. Otherwise it seemed like a normal storm: the rain fell moderately, the wind wasn't bad at all and I couldn't see any other structural damage. I called Katie and told her to pick up candles on the way home (they brought back birthday candles -- there was an understandable run on regular candles).

Power came back the next morning and I figured everything was okay. My mom called me worried but I figured that was just my mom. But then other people started asking me if everything was all right. I didn't understand why until I left to go to the school library.

Auburn Ave, closer to downtown, is a disaster. Condemned buildings are collapsed, telephone/electricity poles are snapped in half, no one could travel down any road continuously due to closures. Every park I passed smelled like wood chips, many of the trees releasing their characteristic odor from their collective injuries. Rubble from buildings spilled into the streets. When I got to downtown I saw what most of the news agencies were talking about: windows from any building higher than four or five stories were knocked out, the glass from the Georgia-Pacific Plaza hanging precariously from some; debris covered sidewalks not along the main Peachtree St drag; parts of buildings looked imploded. That's when I realized it really was a tornado. I took pictures of some of the things I saw with my camera phone, including some idiot pacing the street the phone wearing a green top hat and green beads (for the obviously cancelled St Patrick's Day Parade). That's when I realized something else.

I wasn't alone in taking pictures. People walked up and down the streets with cameras, both professional and amateur, snapping pictures of bent sign posts, twisted streetlights and smashed windows. Last I heard (or read) no one was seriously injured but there is a more subtle tragedy. I have never seen people more interested in downtown than I have today. People were strolling down sidewalks, pointing out the broken pieces from last night. I have never seen so many people outside, excitedly looking around the city. Which means the event where I've seen people the most excited to see Atlanta is when it has been physically injured and people can have a taste of its destruction.

(pt 8)

2008-03-13T00:59:00.000-05:00

[continued:]

[Donna sits down in front of the camera and it is readjusted to frame her properly. She smiles into the lens and looks off camera whenever someone talks to her. She smiles brightly and laughs a little.]

DONNA: So, do I --
DAVID: Just say your name.
DONNA: Hi, I'm Donna Widmore. Um, should I read the part?
DAVID: Uh, yeah, sure. Let me introduce to you everyone real quick. The guys behind the camera are Ryan and Sam. This is Jake Squibs, he's our director of cinematography. This is Rob, he'll be reading with you today and my name is David. Rob and I are co-directing.
DONNA: Hey, nice to meet you all.
DAVID: Okay, so, I guess, take it away.
ROB: All right, are you ready?
DONNA: Definitely.
ROB: Great.

[Donna clears her throat and looks over the script one last time, her face turning serious before looking at Rob.]

ROB: I don't understand why you're so upsest.
DONNA: I just need ROMANCE. I just want a guy to show me he loves me everyday. I don't need diamonds or anything. Just flowers or a note or something to tell me that I'm SPECIAL.
ROB: And he doesn't do that for you?
DONNA: It's the same with every relationship. Things start off great but then it tapers off until I don't get anything anymore. I just want to feel APPRECIATED. Do you think you can DO that? Do you think you can show me you love me EVERY DAY?
ROB: I think I can.
DONNA: Are you sure?
ROB: You just have to give this a shot, you know? But I think I can.
DONNA: I want to BELIEVE that you can. Can I BELIEVE it?
ROB: I can try real hard.
DONNA: [collapsing into a normal composure; smiling] How was that?
DAVID: Very, very nice. Thank you so much.

[A new girl sits in front of the camera and looks into the lens. She looks a lot more nervous.]

DAVID: Okay, just state your name.
FIORAIA: Um, right now?
DAVID: Yeah we're roll--
FIORAIA: Fioraia Nadia.
DAVID: Okay. Are you ready with your part.
FIORAIA: I actually prepared a song and dance.
DAVID: Oh-kay but we don't have room for that. Just read the part on the page and you'll be f--
FIORAIA: I thought there'd be a piano or something. I brought sheet music.
DAVID: This isn't a musical.
FIORAIA: It's from Les Miserables.

[Another girl sits in front of the camera, reading the sheet as she seats herself. She looks over at David.]

DAVID: Say your name please.
CONNIE: Connie Regina. So is this girl a bitch?
DAVID: What? No.
CONNIE: It just kind of seems like she's spoiled or you know --
DAVID: She's just young. Her expectations are really high, that's all.
CONNIE: Seems like her head's infected with too many movies.
DAVID: Go with that. Rob's going to be reading with you here. Whenever you guys are ready.
ROB: You ready?
CONNIE: [takes a breath]> Okay.
ROB: I don't understand why you're so upset.
CONNIE: I just need -- ROMANCE. I just want a GUY to show me he actually LOVES me. Everyday. I don't need diamonds. Just FLOWERS or a NOTE or SOMETHING. To tell me that I'm special.
>ROB: And he doesn't do that for you?
CONNIE: Oh -- it's the same with every relationship. Things start off great but then -- then it tapers off. Until I don't get -- anything -- anymore. I just want to feel -- I want to feel APPRECIATED. Do YOU think you can DO that? Do you? Do you think -- you can show me you love me -- show me EVERY DAY?
ROB: I think I can.
CONNIE: [her eyes well up a little] Are you sure?
ROB: You just have to give this a shot, you know? But I think I can.
CONNIE: I really want to BELIEVE that you can. Can I BELIEVE it?
ROB: I can --
CONNIE: SHOULD I -- believe it?
ROB: I can try real hard.
CONNIE: [looking down at the page again] And you're sure she's not supposed to be a bitch?

[A striking young woman sits in front of the camera, fixes her hair and looks directly into the lens.]

DAVID: State your name.
BETH: Beth Austin [she smirks]

[Later that evening, Squibs, Rob and David are watching the auditions at Rob's house. David pauses on Beth's face and points at the screen.]

DAVID: That's her right there.
ROB: Are you sure?
DAVID: Am I sure? You guys saw her. She has got everything. She's hot, she read well --
ROB: Some people read better.
DAVID: But they didn't look as good as she does. I mean, look at her. She makes me want to make sweet love to the television. I'm not even sure I can contain myself.

[David gets up and walks toward the television, unzipping his pants. Squibs and Rob laugh. David turns just before getting to the TV.]

DAVID: But you see what I mean. She looks great on camera.
SQUIBS: She does that.
DAVID: And she read well enough to make the script work.
ROB: Connie really read it well though --
DAVID: Oh, please. Connie's a hag.
SQUIBS: I thought she was cute.
DAVID: Fugly. Hurts my eyes even to look at her.
ROB: That's a little much. Squibs is right: she's a cute girl.
DAVID: Cute isn't good enough. We need drop dead gorgeous. We need someone so hot it almost doesn't matter what she says. And then we deliver with her actually saying something. That's what we want.

[Sara comes out of the bathroom.]

SARA: You're fly's down.
DAVID: Oh, thanks. [zips up and moves out of the way]
SARA: Oh, she's hot.
ROB: She might be the lead in the movie.
SARA: Oh, yeah, you should totally get her to do it. She looks great on camera.
DAVID: What do you say guys?
SQUIBS: She does look good.
ROB: [sighs] All right.
DAVID: Yes.
ROB: We have our leading lady.
SQUIBS: Awesome.
ROB: We just need to finish the script now.
SARA: Worry about that tomorrow. You guys should celebrate with some pizza from downstairs.
ROB: So you're hungry then?
SARA: Yeah, a little bit.
ROB: All right. Squibs, you hungry?
SQUIBS: I'll come down for a slice.
ROB: You in?
DAVID: Yeah, I'm going.

[Everyone but David stands up and collects their wallets and keys. David gets up to shut down the display equipment and, whilie everyone is filing out of the place, David contemplates doing something different. He runs is hand over the TV, letting the static shock him. He unzips his pants a little bit before thinking better of it and walking away.]

[continued]

(pt 7)

2008-03-06T01:35:00.001-05:00

[continued:]

[David and Squibs are sitting in a small university office, talking. Rob comes in during their elegant, refined conversation.]

SQUIBS: What about Olivia Munn?
DAVID: Olivia Munn is a stone cold fox. Don't get me wrong. I wouldn't push her out of bed. I might even pay top dollar just listen to her say the word "bed." I'm just saying there's something a little weird about her.
SQUIBS: That she's painfully attractive?
DAVID: It's her eyes, man. There's something not right.
ROB: What are you guys talking about?
SQUIBS: You know Olivia Munn? She hosts that show on G4?
ROB: Isn't that the video game channel?
SQUIBS: Yeah.
ROB: No, I've never seen her.
SQUIBS: You've never watched it?
ROB: You must have confused me for a fourteen year old.
DAVID: Anyway, there's this girl on there --
SQUIBS: Woman.
DAVID: -- there's this chick on there who is, I have to admit, straight up foxy, but she has something weird going on.
ROB: Like a mole or goiter or something?
DAVID: Like she's dead behind the eyes.
ROB: Like she's dumb?
DAVID: Oh, is that what that means?
ROB: Well, what's behind the eyes that can be dead?
DAVID: Huh. Anyway, it's not that she's dumb or anything just -- she's got like a fixed stare or something. Like her eyes never change.
ROB: Like a robot?
DAVID: Yes! That's it! She's got robot eyes!
SQUIBS: No. What? Robot eyes?
DAVID: Don't deny it, Squibs. She's got the robot eyes. Never change, never move.
ROB: Maybe it's botox.
SQUIBS: I don't want to believe that.
DAVID: Yeah, I don't know. Botox? To host a show that features internet video of kids getting hit in the balls? It seems like too much work. No, I think she's got natural robot eyes.
ROB: You mean like Scarlett Johansson?
DAVID: [excited at the new revelation] Oh my God she totally does have robot eyes!
ROB: You've never noticed that?
DAVID: I see it now.
ROB: It's all a little too perfect with her: smart, the voice, the body. And then you look into those vacant eyes and realize that she's probably a robot.
DAVID: I can't believe I didn't pick up on that before!
SQUIBS: You guys are crazy. They are a couple of beautiful women, nothing wrong with them at all.
DAVID: Except they need RAM upgrades so they can make some expressions with their eyes.
SQUIBS: Like you're looking at their eyes anyway -- Jessica!

[Squibs stands up as JESSICA, a fellow doctoral candidate and instructor at the university, stands in the doorway, clipboard in hand. David looks up at her and then back at Squibs, mouthing the word "nice" to him. Squibs tries not to pay attention.]

JESSICA: Jake.
SQUIBS: Everything good to go?
JESSICA: They're ready whenever you are. There are about fifteen girls out there. They all have the parts and are reading them over. Are you guys ready?
SQUIBS: Not quite yet.
ROB: We're waiting on the kids to come in with the camera.
JESSICA: Where are they?
SQUIBS: They're on their way.
JESSICA: Okay. Well, just give me a nod when you're ready. [she turns to walk and sees the camera crew come down the hallway] Speak of the devils. Ryan. Sam.

[RYAN and SAM rush in with a small camera and some sound equipment. Ryan, in sneakers, a wind-breaker and beat up college ball cap, is foiled in fashion by Sam, dressed in black loafers, khakis and a long-sleeve checked shirt. They begin setting up immediately.]

RYAN AND SAM: Hey, Professor Louis.
SQUIBS: What happened to you guys?
RYAN: We got stuck in traffic and then they had problems pulling the sound equipment for us.
SAM: Pulled a uni for us first then said they didn't have a shotgun for us. You remember that episode of Seinfeld where he's talking about the rental place not saving a car for him? It was like that. We reserved the mike but they said they gave them all away.
RYAN: It was pretty bad.
SAM: I was about to lose it with them.
SQUIBS: Who was running the equipment desk today?
SAM: Pat.
SQUIBS: He seems to have it together. Doesn't he?
RYAN: Yeah, but his heart just isn't in it, you know, doling out equipment all day I don't think.
SAM: Doesn't mean he can't do his job. I mean gah.
SQUIBS: Did you get the mike?
RYAN: Yeah, he found one finally.
SQUIBS: Okay, good. Oh. Rob, David -- this is Ryan and Sam. They'll be on the crew, probably for most of the shoot. There'll be a few others that come in and out but these two will be around for most of the days.
ROB: Great.
DAVID: Welcome aboard.
JESSICA: So, wait a couple minutes and send the first girl in?
SQUIBS: Please. And thank you again, Jessica, for helping out.
JESSICA: Oh, of course. Did the free-writing techniques I suggested help out?
SQUIBS: They did. Thank you.
DAVID: They were interesting.

[As Jessica looks at her clipboard, Squibs shoots David a dirty look. He shrugs back at him.]

JESSICA: Good, good. Okay, so the first girl that'll be sent in is -- Donna. Okay?
SQUIBS: Okay. [picks his clipboard off the desk and reads it] Donna Widmore?
JESSICA: That's the one.
SQUIBS: All right. Thanks again, Jessica.
JESSICA: It's no problem, Jake. [smiles and walks away]
SQUIBS: All right. You guys set up?
RYAN: [attaches mike to the camera] I think we're close.
SAM: Tape's in, power on, can you hear through the mike?
RYAN: [slips on headphones] Keep talking.
SAM: You know what annoys me most about that guy behind the counter? That he had the balls --
RYAN: Got it. You can stop talking now.
SQUIBS: Okay. I think we're ready.

[Squibs sits back down in his chair and Ryan and Sam sit on the edge of the desk. They all wait silently for the first audition. David waves Rob to lean in closer.]

DAVID: [quietly] Did I just say "welcome aboard" to these guys?
ROB: Like you were the captain of a fun ship.
DAVID: Where did that come from?

[DONNA comes through the door, script in hand. Everyone else in the room turns to her as she timidly at first steps into the office.]

DAVID: Donna?
DONNA: Yeah. Donna Widmore.
DAVID: My name is David. Nice to meet you. Why don't you take a seat over there for us?

[continued]

number four.

2008-03-06T01:22:00.004-05:00

For the past couple of days I've had a blog post planned out. It was going to be mushy, something about spending most of my life watching him helm my favorite team, going through a spectrum of emotions over the course of his career, feeling the sense of legend that has been passed around these last few years. I was going to talk about how I have so many mixed feelings: sadness for the departure of a familiar piece of my life, relief that someone so worthy of praise is going to leave the league on a high note (sort of -- not necessarily his last play but the season on a whole), anticipation to what the future of the franchise is without its franchise quarterback. I was watching when they took Majkowski out. I was watching those heart-breaking games against the stronger Cowboys. I teared up after that amazing Raiders game. I felt jubilation after the first Super Bowl win for my team in 29 years and emotionally-drained after each tough, season-ending defeat.

I had a lengthy blog post planned to talk about number 4 and how he has made me feel so much concentrated stress in the three hours I'd watch a game but equally made the game fun to watch and made it just that: a game. I had so much to say.

But I think NFL Network, ESPN and the rest have kissed his butt enough the last few days.

Thanks, Brett. You did good.

(pt 6)

2008-02-28T01:30:00.003-05:00

[continued:]

[A week later, Rob walks up to David's apartment door and knocks but then quickly enters. David is sitting on the floor in the living room among several magazines. He is wearing only a t-shirt and boxers.]

ROB: Hey, man.
DAVID: [not even looking up from the page] Hey.
ROB: Are you going to get ready?
DAVID: Yeah, yeah ... in a second.
ROB: Because, you know we have to be at the school in like half an hour.
DAVID: Yeah, I know.

[There's a small pause. David stares at the magazine.]

ROB: So we should probably go now.
DAVID: Right.
ROB: So get up!
DAVID: Let me ask you your opinion about something.
ROB: Okay.
DAVID: Take a look at this girl.

[David shows Rob the picture in the magazine. He's looking at porn.]

ROB: Wow, that's a lot of vagina.
DAVID: Yeah, but look past that. Her eyes.
ROB: Did I just catch you in a moment?
DAVID: What?
ROB: You know, did I just catch you -- you know --
DAVID: Oh no, no, no. Well, maybe a little bit but nothing serious. I am sitting in a bunch of porn.
ROB: Why are you sitting around in a bunch of porn?
DAVID: Research, buddy.
ROB: For the movie?
DAVID: I want to have a clear vision of what I want before going down there.
ROB: And you're going to find it in these magazines?
DAVID: It'll help me get an idea.
ROB: [picks up a magazine and flips through it briefly] Unless your girl needs to be skilled in spreading her buttcheeks like this classy gal [shows the picture to David] I'm not sure you're going to find her in the pages of Juggs.
DAVID: Did you know that was a real magazine? I thought that was just in Married ... with Children.
ROB: I don't know if we really want a porn star look for the lead.
DAVID: But see, this is what we need. Someone that can be so hot you'll disgrace yourself to her but can still have a kind of warmth or normalness about her.
ROB: Normalness? These aren't space aliens, David.
DAVID: You know what I mean though. Someone that's extremely hot naked but still has a lot of character about her. Like something deeper.
ROB: So, what, you're flipping throgh porn mags to look at everyone's eyes?
DAVID: Sort of, yeah. I mean boobs aren't bad either but I'm -- I'm doing research.
ROB: Did you buy all of these as the same time?
DAVID: Yeah. In retrospect I probably should have spread it out over a couple of days.
ROB: You get some weird looks?
DAVID: Girl scouts were selling cookies in front of the store.
ROB: Oh no, not the kids.
DAVID: And one came inside for something or other, to go to the bathroom or something, looked right at me, then at the stack.
ROB: Did she say anything to you?
DAVID: "Why do you need so many?"
ROB: Shut up. Really? She knew what they were?
DAVID: I don't know. I mean, I was buying ten magazines. Maybe she thought they were just a bunch of Sports Illustrated or something but I felt like a monster.
ROB: A foot fetish magazine?
DAVID: Excuse me?
ROB: [bends down and picks up a magazine from the floor] A foot fetish magazine. I've never actually seen one of these in real life.
DAVID: Yeah.
ROB: All that's in here are feet. Were you looking for the perfect feet for her, too?
DAVID: Why I have this is neither here nor there. [takes magazine and tosses it aside, standing up]
ROB: Aw, gyah-- [turns his head away in disgust]
DAVID: We just have to make sure this girl --
ROB: Dude, hide the boner.
DAVID: Oh, sorry, man.
ROB: You have to stop obsessing over this one part. We've got three to cast today, mabe more depending on how we write the script. We have more than just this girl to pick.
DAVID: All right, all right.
ROB: And he's poking out again.
DAVID: Ah, jeez --
ROB: So go think about baseball and get dressed. Squibs is already down there with the crew.
DAVID: Okay.

[David heads for the bedroom but Rob puts his hand on his chest to stop him. Rob smiles.]

ROB: So feet, huh?
DAVID: More like calves.
ROB: Never would have guessed.
DAVID: And ankles.
ROB: Really? Ankles?
DAVID: At least it's not toes, right? [heads for the bedroom]
ROB: Yeah, like that's weirder than ankles.

[continued]

news roundup: 25 Feb 08.

2008-02-26T00:02:00.005-05:00

News

Muslim scholars decry terrorism [BBC News]
Islam is not about suicide bombers and death to its enemies. Is this news?

Obama camp claims smear over turban photograph

We have childish choices.

New Marxist president seeks to quell Cypriots' economic fears [The Guardian UK]
"Not in my wildest dreams did I ever think this island would turn red."
Italy celebrates World Slow Day [ANSA.it]
I pictured everyone actually walking slow-motion all day. That would be awesome.
Too pretty to fly? [CNN.com Video]
No. You're not.
When is your favorite show coming back? [Chicago Tribune]
Goodbye, Bionic Woman. May your desperate and painfully flagrant invoking of "grrl power" be silenced for good.
FCC fines Fox stations for raunchy reality show [Reuters, via The Feed]
How are the networks going to hint at nudity and profanity to the non-Puritan audience if we have to pixelate until the entire figure is unrecognizable or (gasp) cut the "offensive" material out?
Israeli MP blames quakes on gays [BBC News]
Laughable religious intolerance: it's not just for America anymore.

Old News

US hails Hezbollah leader's death [BBC News]
To me, this sounded a little immature for a country run by grown ups. Even if the world would be a better place, you don't have to come out and say it. That's not making any friends. Have we stopped believing in political capital?

Not News

In continuing the trend of making fun of the most popular comic strip tabby in the funnies, here is Garfield minus Garfield, a series of Garfield strips without Garfield in them, revealing Jon Arbuckle as the truly schizophrenic person he is (dude has conversations with a cat and feeds him lasagna).

the blur of awkward speeches.

2008-02-24T23:54:00.005-05:00

I don't know why I never thought about this before. All these years of agonizing through the lengthy, embarrassing, melodramatic and, at times, boring ceremony, all I had to do was pause it for an hour, do some homework as I wait and fast forward through the parts that I don't want to watch. Three performances of songs from Enchanted? Zip. Awkward speeches? Zip. Painfully long montages? Zip. God bless you, modern breakthrough in "time-shifting."

We say hurray for: Diablo Cody (Best Original Screenplay, Juno), Javier Bardem (Best Supporting Actor, No Country for Old Men), and Marion Cotillard (Best Actress, La vie en rose). It was nice to see people honestly excited to win an Oscar.

I change the subject (ding!) to give you a tasty video (that won't resize properly for this blog). For Final Fantasy nerds from the old Super Nintendo days and who are equally unimpressed by Garfield comics, this, by Lasagna Cat, is freaking hilarious.

(pt 5)

2008-02-21T01:07:00.003-05:00

[continued:]

[After turning the lights back on, the tribal flute music off and blowing the candles out, the three sit around together trying to come up with the story. Each sit with legal pads of notes in front of them.]

ROB: So what do we have?
DAVID: Well, let's go over the story again.
ROB: All right.
DAVID: So, we have a guy: decent-looking but shy who just got out of a long relationship. Then we have this drop-dead gorgeous girl who is trying isn't trying to get of her relationship but meets the guy and suddenly wants to get out.
ROB: Right.
DAVID: So the girl and the guy start to date, even though they are both fully aware that she is in a relationship. She ends up, because she can't break it to her boyfriend, getting engaged --
ROB: See, this is where you lose me a little bit. We're supposed to believe that even though she's messing around with this guy she's going to say yes to a marriage proposal?
DAVID: You don't think it could happen?
ROB: It doesn't sound logical to me.
SQUIBS: Well, it doesn't have to seem realistic to us. I mean, that's our job, right? Set up the situation so it make senses to everyone else?
ROB: Yeah, I guess. So the girl and the guy stay together.
DAVID: Right, they stay together. The boyfriend, now fiancee, ships out overseas for like a year or six months or something.
ROB: So he's gone.
DAVID: Which gives the boy and the girl time to get to know each other better.
SQUIBS: And they're really hesitant at first.
DAVID: Yeah, really hesistant but eventually they just can't get enough of each other and so ensues the relationship.
ROB: And the eventual choice.
DAVID: Yes. So, any moments you guys come up with?
ROB: Okay, I got this image of, like, the first time they see each other after she gets engaged. Like an uncomfortable lunch where they call it quits.
DAVID: Okay.
ROB: Something that seems clearcut, like it's really the end. Like, "We can't see each other anymore." Nothing drawn out. But then when they walk away they realize they can't do it.
DAVID: Okay, that's decent.
ROB: What do you have?
DAVID: I have this fight sequence planned out when they finally meet, the boy and the fiancee.
ROB: Oh yeah?
DAVID: Yeah, I figure it'll be something for the guys that end up seeing the movie. Just like a killer fight sequence.
SQUIBS: Like, with choreography?
DAVID: Well, I don't think it needs to be that intensive. Just, you know, two guys scrapping. I picture it in the rain or something. Water flying off the face.
SQUIBS: You want to try to shoot in the rain?
ROB: Also, you're pitting a guy in the military against a shy kid? He's going to get pummeled.
DAVID: Maybe that's the point, you know? Maybe the guy gets knocked out. Build some sympathy.
ROB: But it's not going to be a fight sequence. I mean, the military guy would knock a regular dude with no combat experience out in, like, a second. Especially if the military guy is mad.
DAVID: Maybe the kid has some karate classes he's taking?
ROB: [after a short pause; turns to Squibs] What do you have, Squibs?
SQUIBS: Well, I thought about this for the ending: what if the girl turns out to actually be married at the end?
ROB: What?
DAVID: Please. What, is she also going to take off her mask and reveal she's really an alien, too?
SQUIBS: You guys don't like it?
ROB: I think the premise is unlikely as it is. That might put it over the top.
DAVID: We don't have to be M. Night Shyamalan for everything. I don't think we need a twist.
SQUIBS: Just a thought.
ROB: We'll keep it in our back pocket. So I guess we'll just keep writing?
DAVID: Yeah, based on the stuff we can agree on, let's just write a couple of scenes this week. Try not to make the dialogue too mushy. Let's make it reasonable.
ROB: Sounds good to me. What about casting? Who are we going to get on the cheap?
SQUIBS: The regulars I would imagine. Kyle sounds like a good choice for the lead. Victor is a pretty good size for the fiancee. But I don't know about the girl.
DAVID: I don't think we know anyone that'll fit the part as well as we'd like.
ROB: Or at least are willing to take their clothes off.
SQUIBS: Are we going to actually have to have auditions?
DAVID: Yeah, I guess so. How are we going to do this? Flyers? An ad?
ROB: [smiling] Is there a brothel in town?
DAVID: I think we can get legitimate actresses for this thing. We're going to write a solid script with a good opportunity to showcase some talent. Sure, there'll be some nudity and, yes, it may be gratutious --
ROB: Right.
DAVID: -- but it'll be tasteful. Squibs can frame it up and make it look like Dave LaChapelle was slumming it with us for a few days. Right, Squibs?
SQUIBS: I think I can make a hot naked girl look pretty.
DAVID: That's all I can ask. So we'll pull all this together, write some pages, maybe get your lady friend at school to help us organize the auditions, and we'll get the girls somewhere to test for us.
SQUIBS: Sounds good to me. By the way, the crew should be all together in the next couple of weeks after exams.
ROB: Awesome. Guys, we are really going to do this, aren't we?
DAVID: We really are. One week. Auditions for the female lead. I'll make up the flyers.
SQUIBS: I feel like we should all put our hands into the center and yell, "Go team!" or something.
ROB: We will never do that. [David concurs by shaking his head.]

[continued]

to grate against my being.

2008-02-20T08:43:00.003-05:00

Serj Tankian, the worst part about System of a Down, has a solo album out? What for?

(pt 4)

2008-02-14T02:31:00.002-05:00

[continued:]

[A few days later, David and Rob approach a first floor apartment. They have notebooks and Rob carries a laptop. As they come up to the door, the notice it open slightly.]

ROB: Is the door open?
DAVID: It is. It's dark inside.
ROB: Is Squibs even home?
DAVID: I'll call him real quick. [pulls out phone and dials number]
ROB: This is the time we were supposed to meet him, right?
DAVID: Yeah, he said five.
ROB: Maybe he's taking a shower or something and left the door open for us.
DAVID: Who leaves their door open while they take a shower?
ROB: So, what's the other option? Someone's casing the place?
DAVID: [closes phone] He's not picking up. Um, maybe. Maybe someone is.
ROB: Well, I don't see any forced entry.
DAVID: What are you? CSI? There are a million ways to get in here without having to break the door down. What if they used the Hide-A-Key?
ROB: [picking up the flower pot that hides the spare key] Still there.
DAVID: [whispering in a rasp] And keep your voice down! Did you ever think they put the key back after they were done?
ROB: [also whispering] Why are we whispering?
DAVID: So they can't hear us.
ROB: There's more than one robber?
DAVID: Probably two. They work in teams.
ROB: Do they also wear black and white stripes like the Hamburglar?
DAVID: I'm being serious here. We don't want them to hear us.
ROB: You're being ridiculous.
DAVID: Should we call the cops?
ROB: Do you think we should go inside?
DAVID: Not even a little bit. Wait, did you hear that?
ROB: Here what?
DAVID: That sound. I think I hear voices.

[They are silent for a moment and listen near the door for sounds.]

ROB: I hear some music I think.
DAVID: Music? No way. Those are voices. Listen, I'm going to go into the parking lot to call the cops. You stay here in case they come out.
ROB: What? You're going to leave me here to fend for myself against thugs while you run away?
DAVID: I'm not running away. I'm calling the police. Just shout if you need help.

[David goes to walk away but is stopped by a loud scraping sound. There is something attached to his foot.]

DAVID: What is it?
ROB: [pulls the note off David's shoe] It says, "Take off your shoes before you come in."
DAVID: Oh, that's right. He got new carpet.
ROB: Let's go, numbnuts.

[The two walk in and find Squibs in his living room, sitting on the floor, surrounded by pillows. The room is dimly lit and smells of fresh incense. Candles are scattered about the room not so much for light as for ambiance. In front of Squibs is a pile of supplies: a pile of printer paper, boxes of crayons and clipboards.]

ROB: Hey -- man.
DAVID: What is this?
SQIBBS: Trying something a little new. A colleague of mine does this with her students in her writing class.
DAVID: What's that music?
SQUIBS: Do you like it? It's Native American flute. I think it's kind of relaxing.
ROB: How do you have Native American flute music?
SQUIBS: She let me borrow the CD.
DAVID: Is she hot?
ROB: Where do you even get a CD of Native American flute music? And what are the crayons for?
SQUIBS: To write with.
ROB: With crayons.
SQIBBS: I just thought since we're trying something new we should try a new way of going about it.
DAVID: And her students just put up with writing in crayon for their higher level education?
SQUIBS: Just try it. Go ahead and put the laptop down and we'll get started. Just try it out. She swears by this.
ROB: Can't hurt I suppose.
DAVID: She'd better be hot.

[David and Rob put their stuff down and reluctantly sit on the floor among the pillows and writing supplies.]

SQIBBS: [in a soothing voice] Now, what we're going to do is try --
ROB: Whoa, whoa, whoa.
DAVID: Are you going to talk like that the whole time?
SQUIBS: Well, I have to try to keep up with the mood.
ROB: So we'd have to talk like that, too?
SQUIBS: We're trying not to to be jarring during the creative process.
DAVID: You've got to be kidding --
ROB: Now, come on, man. Let's try it out. Go with it.
SQUIBS: Thank you, Rob. Now let's continue. We're going to try some brainstorming exercises. Clear your minds. Allow yourselves to not think for a few seconds and then let's talk about the first image that comes to mind. David?
DAVID: [after a couple moments, sighs, then in soothing voice] Well, the first things I saw --

[Rob cracks up and David follows quickly as they break into laughter. Squibs is disappointed.]

ROB: [laughing] I'm sorry, Squibs.
DAVID: [also laughing] I'm not. That was real stupid!
SQUIBS: Come on, you guys. Really? You couldn't even hold it together for ten minutes?
ROB: Did you really expect us to write in crayon?
SQUIBS: Just as a change of pace, get you out of your normal routine.
DAVID: Then what? Were you going to hang our outlines on the refrigerator? [starts to laugh again]
SQUIBS: What a couple of classy guys you are.
ROB: Sorry, man.
DAVID: And where did you get all the candles from? Did you buy them all for tonight?
SQUIBS: No, I had them around.
DAVID: It smells like a Bath and Body Works exploded in here.
SQUIBS: -- Y-Yankee Candle Shop

[Rob chuckles as he pulls it together but David falls over laughing. Squibs smiles and then laughs a little, too.

SQUIBS: Yeah, she is hot.
DAVID: [stops laughing and sits up quickly, pointing] I knew it!

[continued]

why tv is awesome, pt 4.

2008-02-14T02:25:00.004-05:00

(pt 3)

2008-02-07T00:53:00.001-05:00

[continued:]

[Back in his apartment, Rob is talking with Sara as she does dishes and he cleans up the kitchen.]

ROB: So I wasn't entirely sure "the idea" was really so big. They told me what they wanted to do and, I mean, I guess it could work but it'll take a really rock solid script I'm not sure we're capable of writing.
SARA: What's it about?
ROB: It's about this guy who has just come out of a long-term relationship and falls for a girl he works with, only to find out she has a boyfriend.
SARA: Lame.
DAVID: [from the couch, not taking his eyes from the television] Wait.
ROB: The girl says she keeps wanting to break up with the boyfriend but ends up getting engaged because he's going to be shipped out in a few weeks.
SARA: And that's the end?
ROB: That's the beginning. Since the fiancee isn't in town, she still runs around with the other guy. The guy is really good to her and the fiancee is pretty was absent even before he shippeed out so they stay together and play house while he's gone. Then there's a pretty dramatic confrontation between the fiancee and the other guy near the end.
SARA: So it's about the struggle of this girl having to choose?
ROB: Right. Sort of. We want to do some of it from the guy's point of view, too.
SARA: So, question: why does the guy stay with a girl he knows is engaged with someone else?
ROB: I justify it like this: he just got out of a long relationship with another girl and is looking for something different and dangerous. Enter this girl. She's both different and dangerous. So he struggles a little bit, too, as he tries to reconcile being at her place and seeing pictures of the finacee everywhere and being in what is ostensibly a relationship with this girl.
SARA: Huh.
DAVID: I think you think too much. The reason why he sticks around is because of all the hot sex we're going to show he has.
ROB: Oh, and the hot sex. Almost forgot about that.
SARA: So, let me get this straight: you're going to make a movie about a girl who's engaged that has to choose between the man she promised herself to and the new man who may be perfect for her?
ROB: Pretty much.
SARA: [stops cleaning and smirks] Who's going to play the girl?
DAVID: Ppsh, not you.
ROB: You'd want to play the girl?
SARA: Sure, why not?
ROB: Well, there are a lot of scenes planned where the girl and the non-fiancee are either naked or in their underpants.
SARA: It might be fun. Are you going to play the guy?
ROB: Certainly not. We're going to get someone else.
SARA: Oh. Well, it still might be fun.
DAVID: No way.
SARA: Why not?

[She crosses over to the couch. David doesn't take his eyes off the screen yet.]

DAVID: Because we need someone hot to play the girl.
SARA: I'm hot.
DAVID: [laughs] No, seriously.
SARA: What? People tell me all the time that I should model.
DAVID: For who?
SARA: You don't think I'm hot enough?
ROB: Of course you're hot enough.
SARA: [to Rob] You have to say that.
ROB: But I really think that.
SARA: Anyway, I think you can use me. Do you want me to audition for you right now?
DAVID: I caught the matinee of that show earlier and was not impressed.
SARA: Oh, see, you didn't even see me get into it. I'm super hot when I'm actually having sex.
DAVID: Oh my God gross.
SARA: [leaning in closer to David] When I'm heaving and then I arch my back --
DAVID: Oh gross --
SARA: -- and I'm all moaning and whispering.

[She starts to moan, gasp and whisper PG-13-rated dirty things. Rob laughs but David has to turn off the TV to express his contempt.]

DAVID: That's disgusting! There is no way you are going to be in this movie. No way. I am NOT going to be forced to see my sister naked.
SARA: Again?
ROB: Stop being so weird about your sister. It's not her fault she's got a great body.
SARA: That almost sounded like you weren't sucking up.
DAVID: I've had to hear that from everyone since she got boobs. I'm tired of talking about it.
SARA: Ooh, who do you have to talk about it with? Anyone I know?
DAVID: When do you want to start writing this thing, Rob?
ROB: If you want to put a couple scenes down tonight, I'll write a couple scenes, too, and we can go over them tomorrow night or something after I get off work. Squibs is getting us a crew?
DAVID: Yeah, said he had a couple kids in mind.
SARA: All right. I guess I'm going to take a shower before work. Should I lock the door, David, or were you planning to come bursting in there, too?
DAVID: [gets up and throws the remote down on the couch] I'm going home.

[continued]

giants ... win?

2008-02-03T22:12:00.000-05:00

We live in a world of uncertainty and chaos, of lightning strikes and rolls of the dice. This universe has no construct. I know this is true because I just watched a montage, set to Audioslave, of the New York Football Giants winning the Super Bowl over the, until now, undefeated New England Patriots.

(pt 2)

2008-01-31T00:32:00.001-05:00

[continued:]

[Rob and David walk into the diner. David points down to a booth where a man they call SQUIBS is sitting. The two walk toward him and sit in the booth, David beside Squibs.]

ROB: Hey, Squibs.
SQUIBS: Hey, what's going on, man?
ROB: What are you doing down here? Shouldn't we be teaching right about now?
SQUIBS: I don't have classes on Fridays.
DAVID: Squibs helped me come up with the idea.
ROB: Really? You guys hang out?
DAVID: Yeah. What? Do you think that when you're not around we just sit at home and wait by the phone?
ROB: Kinda.
DAVID: No, we do all kinds of stuff.
SQUIBS: Well, all kinds is kind of pushing it.
ROB: Why don't you guys call me?
DAVID: We can talk about your hurt ego later. The idea --
ROB: All right. Lay it on me.
DAVID: You know how we make our shorts, right?
ROB: Right.
DAVID: And you know how we think they're brilliant but people don't seem to watch them ever.
SQUIBS: My parents even blew me off for the last one.
ROB: That's kind of cold. But I kind of understand.
DAVID: Right, because we're making stuff for us and not other people. I mean, we thought the modernized, twenty-minute version of 8½ was going to catch on.

[The three men reflect on their last short for a moment, thinking of the Director going through the pains of the creative process rapidly as he himself is trying to direct a short. They laugh.]

DAVID: I mean, we laugh but that was a good idea, I mean really good. That was smart as hell.
ROB: But there was no way that was going to be popular.
DAVID: Exactly. We keep sabataging ourselves by being artists, you know? Our own special brilliance is holding us back.
ROB: So what's your plan?
DAVID: We take it mainstream.
ROB: Excuse me?
DAVID: You heard me. We go mainstream. Instead of writing the next think piece flop that no one wants to look at, we write something sappy and gooey --
SQUIBS: But with something for guys, too.
DAVID: Yeah, like a couple hot sex scenes or something to keep everyone interested.
ROB: So you guys are talking full-length?
DAVID: Right! We can write complex, intellectual shorts. We should be able to write a vapid, clichéd full-length no problem. Just ignore all our sensibilities and pull it down.
SQUIBS: And we could probably do it better than they can. Just tweak the stuff we hate.
DAVID: Exactly. Write something better. Like, what do you think would have made The Notebook better?
ROB: Oh, lots of things. Believablility for one --
DAVID: Right. And Rachel McAdams topless couldn't have hurt.
ROB: Certainly not.
SQUIBS: She's really hot.
DAVID: Smoking hot. And that's what we need to do: get some ridiculously good-looking people, write as bulletproof a script as we can because, chances are, the good-looking people are going to also be ridiculous idiots.
ROB: Why not just get good-looking people that can act?
DAVID: All right, listen. I'm not just talking about the best-looking girl that can act. I'm talking about someone that you would snap your neck for if you saw her on the street. Someone with charisma and power on screen.
SQUIBS: But we're poor.
DAVID: Right so there's no way we'll be able to pull down that kind of package and luck out with strong acting, too. But if I had to choose between the two, between hot or a good actress, the good-looking girl is going to get noticed quicker and more people are going to love it than if we have some slouchy-looking people that can act falling in love.
SQUIBS: And it's not like we're writing Shakespeare or anything.
DAVID: Right, they just need to stumble through the lines, pout their lips and look hot.
ROB: You guys have really been thinking about this? How often do you hang out? I mean, do you -- go to bars and stuff?
DAVID: Yes, we have more fun without you. Listen! This is a good idea, man. What do you say?

[The server comes over and the three men relax into their seats.]

SERVER: Sorry, I didn't want to interrupt before. Did you guys want something to drink?
SQUIBS: Diet Coke.
DAVID: Um, I'll take an iced tea.
ROB: Coke and a water, thanks.
SERVER: Okay, I'll be right out.
DAVID: [after a couple beats for the server to walk away] So? What do you think?
ROB: How long do you think this will be?
DAVID: 75, 80 minutes. Tops.
ROB: And how will we do this? I mean, it was fine when just the three of us were doing shorts with a couple of other actors but, if we want this to look good and to end up as long as you're saying, we're going to need a bunch more people to help us out.
DAVID: That's where Squibs comes in.
SQUIBS: I teach dozens of kids bored with theory that are just dying for the chance to work on something. They'll do it for free.
ROB: So, seriously, you guys? You want to make a sappy love story?
DAVID: We have the rest of our lives to be artists. Let's get recognized.
ROB: [to Squibs] And you're definitely in on this?
SQUIBS: I have a buddy that just started at a new independent that said his bosses were looking for something just like this: a low-budget sleeper they can buy to help get them started.
DAVID: What else do you have to do other than serve people their cheese dip at the bar?

[Rob takes a moment to answer as the server comes back with the drinks. David looks back up at the server and suddenly feels embarrassed.]

DAVID: Not that there's anything wrong with serving people cheese dip. It's just that we have this thing --
SERVER: Save it. Are you guys ready to order?
ROB: We're going to need a second. Thanks.
SERVER: Take your time. [walks away]
DAVID: So. Are you in?
ROB: I suppose I really don't have anything else to do.
DAVID: That's the half-assed spirit I was looking for!
ROB: Let's do this.
DAVID: All right. This is going to be it, guys. Let's be everything that's always made us sick.

[They laugh for a second. When it winds down, Rob gets a serious face.]

ROB: But seriously, when you guys go out, a phone call couldn't hurt.
DAVID: Let it go.

[continued]

'i' and 'the' are boring.

2008-01-27T19:56:00.000-05:00

Sitting at home in front of blank word processor document, the main points of an academic paper or creative writing project rolling around in my head, I can't help but get the song "Jeremy" stuck in my head. I've never been a big Pearl Jam fan* but there is something striking about this song, especially from a writer's perspective.

Sure, of course, there's the fact that lyrics are topical and poignant, the experience of hundreds condensed into four or five minutes and released years before those hundreds would know the rash of high-profile school violence that ravaged the media. There's the tell-tale bass-line beginning and the memorable video. But why I'm always reminded of "Jeremy" is the first line: "At home, / drawing pictures / of mountain tops / with him on top, / lemon yellow sun ... " The song doesn't start off with "I" or "You" or even "He" ... not a "The" or "A/An" ... nothing like the typical starting point of so many stories. In fact, we don't even get a third-person pronoun until the fourth line, an active sentence with Jeremy's name until the refrain, and details that this tale isn't told in the third-person omniscient (instead it is first-person limited -- not from Jeremy's point-of-view) until after the first refrain (second or third stanza depending on what lyrics you're looking at).

This is a good reminder for me whenever I start to write: don't just relay the story -- drop people in. Not that there isn't something to be said for starting from the beginning but we are so inundated with texts beginning with articles and pronouns/subjects I find it more interesting to use different sentence structures to spice it up a little. Not only does it grab readers from the beginning but it also prompts me as a writer to be more creative with how the sentence, then paragraph, then page is constructed. So now, as I start to write an abstract for an undergraduate research project I'm working on, I have the video for that song running through my head.

Thanks for the inspiration, Eddie. Sorry that whenever I do impressions of you it sounds exactly like my impression of Scott Stapp.

* My mom bought me Vs to help me expand my musical tastes beyond the Ren & Stimpy CD I had and my slow but increasing fascination with the Johnny Mneumonic soundtrack. They (my mom and her best friend who was visiting for the week) played it for me and tried to get me to listen to the whole song. I felt trapped and called out so I pushed through the adults and left the room, crying. I point that out as the reason I never caught on to the "grunge" movement. I was 12 at the time.

(pt 1)

2008-01-24T01:37:00.000-05:00

[A young woman, SARA, brushes her finger against a CD collection, her fingernail tapping onto the side of each jewel case. She's not searching for anything in particular, just browsing, until she finds something that makes her eyes open wide and a grin develop on her face. She pulls the CD from the tower and turns to her boyfriend, ROB, sitting on a couch across the room of his studio loft.]

SARA: Oh, you've got to be kidding me.
ROB: What's that?
SARA: This, this might be a deal breaker. We may have to part ways after this.
ROB: What are you talking about? There's nothing in there that's that bad.
SARA: [holding up the evidence] Don Juan Demarco soundtrack.
ROB: What?
SARA: Are you serious? What?
ROB: I will defend that CD to the death.
SARA: You're not serious.
ROB: Oh, I'm serious.
SARA: You're going to defend the soundtrack with the Bryan Adams single.
ROB: First of all, "the one with the Bryan Adams single" is about every major motion picture of the early 90s. Second, Bryan Adams is the great romantic songwriter of our generation.
SARA: You are completely insane.
ROB: Put it on.
SARA: No.
ROB: I'm telling you. Put it on. I defy you to not want to make sweet love to me while playing that song.
SARA: Well, you're certainly not getting laid with language like that.
ROB: I'm telling you.
SARA: All right --

[Sara puts the CD in the player and, as it loads, she skips to the song and presses play. The opening chords of "Have You Ever Really Loved a Woman?" strum through the speakers. Rob raises an eyebrow and nods, prompting Sara to laugh.]

ROB: Don't try to deny it. Let it take you away.
SARA: Oh yeah. Oh, you're totally right. This song it -- cuts like a knife.
ROB: Don't fight it, Sara. Let that sweet, sweet Canadian voice inside your heart.

[She giggles and starts to slink mockingly over to her boyfriend, almost immediately breaking into laughter. She moves over to him and mounts him, grabbing his head.]

SARA: You, sir, are ridiculous.
ROB: It's Bryan Adams, babe. What else can I do? I'm only human.

[They laugh again and kiss. He pulls her in closer and they kiss for longer to her pleasant surprise. He starts to rub his hands on her sides, across her shoulders and places one on her neck. She smiles.]

SARA: Maybe you're onto something here.
ROB: See, I told you.

[Clothes start to shed. First his shirt, then hers. Their hands start to grab and pull at each other. He slips her bra straps off her shoulders then goes for the fastener only to be confonded. She smiles again.]

SARA: I got it, I got it. [She unhooks it with the ease of experience.] See, not that hard.
ROB: I'm going to get it one day, I swear to God, I'm going to get it.
SARA: It's not that important.
ROB: [between kissing] I'm going to get it and then just surprise you with it in public, just unhook it when you're not paying attention with one hand --
SARA: And then what?
ROB: Oh, and then I'll, uh, I'll --
SARA: Don't tease me. What would you do then?
ROB: I'm not teasing. I'm just -- distracted.

[She is going to work on this belt. His hands are on her hips, pulling at her skirt though not immediately trying to pull it off. She starts on his pants just as the front door opens wide. Standing in the doorway is DAVID, Rob's best friend and, therefore, somewhat accustomed to not having to knock before entering.]

DAVID: [immediately averting his eyes, even stumbling away from the doorway but returning only to repeat it] Oh Jesus Christ.
SARA: [trying to cover herself up] David!
DAVID: Oh, Christ, don't you lock the door before -- doing that -- thing?
ROB: It was kind of spur of the moment.
DAVID: You didn't have time to check the doors first? Jeez--
SARA: You didn't have time to knock?
DAVID: Fair enough. Just, uh, I guess, meet me downstairs when you're, uh, finished, Rob. Oh God.

[David walks away and Sara jumps up to shut the door, only to have David pop back in for a second.]

DAVID: Are you guys seriously doing it to the Don Juan Demarco soundtrack?
SARA: Get out!

[He leaves and she slams the door.]

[Ten minutes later, Rob meets David downstairs outside his building.]

DAVID: That was quick.
ROB: Easy. The mood was kind of shot after her brother busted through the door.
DAVID: Sorry about that.
ROB: Yeah, there'll be other times.
DAVID: Gross.
ROB: You want to get a bite across the street?
DAVID: Yeah.

[They start to walk toward the diner across the street. David shakes off the scene previous.]

DAVID: So why I was busting in there in the first place was because, Rob -- I have it.
ROB: You have what?
DAVID: The idea.
ROB: The idea?
DAVID: This is it, man. I finally have it. It's the one, I know it.
ROB: Different than the last "the one?"
DAVID: Why do you have to say it like that? Live-action peanut-butter jelly time: that's gold.
ROB: I can't wait for this.

[continued]

dear prospective film student.

2008-01-22T12:39:00.001-05:00

Outside of the actual production elements you will eventually learn, the following is a short list of the concepts you will become familiar with as you progress towards a degree. And by familiar I mean very intimate. And by very intimate I mean you will get married, have kids and learn to hate each other but refuse to get divorced due to the belief that benath all your frustration, existential torpor and general ill will there lies a deep, meaningful connection.

The many angles, transitions and storytelling elements used to get to know Charles Foster Kane
Mimes playing tennis
Marxism and all its countless and oftimes impractical, sometimes impossible, applications
The Odessa Steps sequence
The auteur theory and its immediate deconstruction
People that are moved emtionally by avant-garde cinema
David Bordwell
[insert European demonym] New Wave and/or Neorealism
pretension
pedagogish anti-Hollywood slant
stereotypical (for a film program) hierarchy of cinematic cultural capital
television only as an accessory to Hollywood
André Bazin
a bunch of quiet kids who only want to know how to make a movie

the green bay packers.

2008-01-21T09:57:00.000-05:00

I was raised with green and gold blood. I have worn a cheesehead proudly. I watch games superstitiously, not watching when I think I'm bad luck, changing shirts and socks whenever I thought it might help the team. The time I've spent daydreaming about catching a pass by Brett Favre or pounding through the Bears defense on a reverse or running back a special teams play may amount to months of my life. The games I can watch I live and die on. The games I can't plague me until I know the score. A storied football team out of a small town in Wisconsin is one of the few things that can truly stress me out.

I am that guy who screams at the television to make me feel better.

My mom is from Milwaukee and my dad has always been a Green Bay fan (though he's from California) so the legacy was passed down to me with my interest in football. My brother Josh never really cared for sports (though now he admits that he doesn't like to hear that the Packers lost) and Chris seemed to always align himself with teams that gave Green Bay trouble (the Cowboys in the 90s, the Bears of late) but, as the picture of me when I was three wearing a Packers sweatsuit would indicate, I've always been true. Even through the 4-12 season before Holmgren (and after). Suffering through "Majik" Don Majikowski's twilight seasons and watching a young, brash quarterback take over in that fateful Bengals game. Yes, Green Bay.

So to watch them twist and gnash in agonizing defeat yesterday was heartbreaking, especially after such a stellar performance last week against the Seahawks. Ian told me before the game, and I hold with this now, that the New York Giants aren't really that good -- they just make you play the worst football of your season (he's a Bucs fan). Green Bay beat themselves with penalties and missed opportunities. And it hurts.

Katie has suffered the entire season by being forced to watch incessant NFL Network programming but now I can't even bear to turn the television on because there might be someone that says something negative, something about them being a fluke, about the possibility of Favre retiring, about the competition to be the team to make the Patriots 19-0 or, worse, that the better team won the NFC title.

I work on Sundays at the Store and I ran from there last night to catch the majority of the game (I got home near the end of the first quarter). But with the Super Bowl in a couple weeks, I know I can take my time getting home on February 3rd.

Next season is going to be their season though. I can feel it.

a modest question.

2008-01-18T01:11:00.000-05:00

Do you think Conan is better without writers?

why tv is awesome, pt 3.

2008-01-12T09:08:00.000-05:00

In an effort to become more relevant in an increasingly convergent media universe, Fox and NBC have teamed up under Hulu.com to offer us a single place with quick-loading, high-quality clips and episodes of existing media properties like 30 Rock, The Simpsons, Keeping Up with the Kardashians. It's just one step closer to my vision of the broadcast networks aligning with already established video portals. CBS/YouTube is not that far off. In the meantime, you can embed clips of John Krasinski on Conan.

dear drivers.

2008-01-10T23:14:00.000-05:00

Normal rain in Atlanta will inevitably fill up the gutters along the surface streets. When you see a pedestrian along the road, clinging to his jacket in order to keep his schoolwork dry while huddling under an umbrella that is probably too small for him, try not to hug the curb and send a wave of dirty rainwater crashing into him like he's on a fishing trawler in "The Perfect Storm" (the weather event, not the movie).

And I know some of you must do it for fun. It looks fun. And some of you do it to test out some fancy new tires. I get it. It's good to make sure your investment is working for you. But a wall of water was heading my way so big tonight that I thought I was shooting the Pipeline without a board.

Just think of the poor cats having to walk in that, hoping beyond hope they can come home at least 65% dry.

Regards,

Nick Campbell

dear myspace community.

2008-01-06T23:47:00.000-05:00

I've been lambasting MySpace for the past few months. Though I wouldn't say that I've jumped ship for Facebook (because, wow, would that be embarrassing) I do appreciate its layout, better coding structure and extensibility contrasting your spam-filled, corporate-owned, be-<table>'d existence. But one thing called me back.

The opportunity to force (or at least suggest) my musical taste onto a captive audience is very attractive to me. I used to hate profiles with music on them because it usually slowed load time to a crawl and the auto-play feature reminded me too much of the early days of the internet when I was trolling fan sites and was subjected to the background MIDI. But, now that there is control over the the auto-play function, I not only incorporate the music player into my profile, I find new songs for it every couple of days. This, my dear community, is where you come in.

Not every song I want to inflict on others is on the site (or at least not on the site as far as I want to explore it). So I encourage you, friends, to upload the songs I want to play for others. You might ask why I don't do it myself.

I don't want to get in trouble. Here's a short list.

"Thunderkiss '65" by White Zombie
"Bounce" by Timbaland
"Possibly Maybe" by Björk
"Never Say Never" by Queens of the Stone Age
"Learning (alwaysnewapr)" by onelinedrawing
"Xerces" by Deftones
"2 Rights Make 1 Wrong" by Mogwai
"hjartað hamast (bamm bamm bamm)" by Sigur Rós
"Elite" by Deftones
"Appolonia" by Team Sleep
"It Could Be Sweet" by Portishead
"Better Things" by Massive Attack
"Glory Box (Mudflap Mix)" by Portishead
"Backstage Girl" by DJ Shadow
"Somethin' Hot" by The Afghan Whigs

Those are just a few of the songs I've been looking for but couldn't find. Help me out, copyright quasi-infringers.

getting to world 1-2.

2008-01-05T15:40:00.000-05:00

Content Warning: It's a little racy from here on. Sort of. Viewer discretion is advised.
...
...
SEX!

[A bedroom is dark except for a light coming through a window, a combined effort from a nearby streetlight and the moon desperately trying to compete with it. SHE lays on the bed, almost annoyed, wearing a bright pink prom dress and a golden tiara with pink flats to match. HE walks in almost completely nude except for a large red cap and a fake mustache.]

He: We're so going to do this.
She: Oh my God.
He: We're are totally doing this.
She: You look like a child molester.
He: Come on. You said you would play along.
She: [sighs; unenthusiastic] All right.
He: I can barely see your face. Are you wearing the tiara?
She: Yes. It's the second-best part of the outfit.
He: What's the best part?
She: You'll find out. So, you decided not to go with the overalls?
He: Well, I was going to do this thing where I unhooked them and let them drop for the big reveal.
She: Of what?
He: You know -- my penis.
She: Oh right.
He: But then realized that might have totally ruined everything.
She: I might have walked out.
He: Exactly. Then where would I be? Just a dude standing alone with a fake mustache and some overalls around his ankles.
She: And a funny hat.

[There's a small pause as they both mentally prepare for their role-play.]

He: So should I call you Toadstool or Peach?
She: Oh, definitely Peach.
He: Right on. Right on.
She: [seductively] Thank you for saving me. I'm sorry to have caused you so much -- trouble.
He: Should I respond in that fake Italian accent he has?
She: Oh God no. Maybe we'll aim for the earlier games.
He: Or like in Mario 64?
She: Sure. [clears throat] Let me do something -- special -- for you.
He: Okie dokie.
She: That's not going to work.
He: Okay, okay.

[He kneels on the bed and holds onto her lacy, poofy dress.]

He: This is nice.
She: Shut up.
He: I think you could pull this off out in public. Just tell people you're on your way to homecoming.

[They laugh as he starts to make his way into her dress.]

He: It's like moving through a cloud.
She: Right, right.
He: If the cloud was made out of doilies.
She: Are you lost?
He: No, no. I think I'm good. [beat] Ooh, mushrooms on the underpants?
She: Just trying to get into character.

She looks away as he pulls off her panties, tossing them aside then winces slightly and smiles, closing her eyes.]

He: This is a delicious cake you have here.
She: Well, I told you I'd make one just for you.

[He is within the dress for a few minutes before struggling back through the lace to resurface, hat askew but mustache in tact.

He: Are you ready?
She: Save me.
He: Here we go.

xxx

Was that too much?

disappointment: a day in bullets.

2007-12-23T20:51:00.000-05:00

Listening to: ágætis byrjun by Sigur Rós
Especially: "hjartaõ hamast (bamm bamm bamm)" [listen]

Today started My Destroyed Vacation. The workplace has given me certain responsibilities for the next two weeks that I didn't really ask for nor did I secretly want. Now I've been imbued with powers that eat up any free time I might have had between semesters. Sure, "no rest for the weary" but I need some me time. And some Wii time. That's what she said.
Work was super boring. Outside of the biscuits I picked up before work and brought into the Store, the day was bland bland bland. Temporary workers took up all the menial labor that usually whiles my time away and the important work I was "freed" to do took up a good hour, maybe two hours of my ten-hour day. Bo. Ring. Luckily my fellow cohorts were equally as bored so we played tricks on people, tricks that were thwarted by mudsticks. Yes, that's a clever way of saying "stick in the mud." I like mudsticks better. It makes you think more than a cliché normally would.
Green Bay lost hard. And they lost a lot. And by a lot. And HARD.
Other stuff.

At least Katie and I will do a partial gift exchange tonight. That should pick my spirits up. Giving me presents is how people show me they love me. Thanks, Mom.

Update: Katie came home too drunk unable to do gift exchange. My day ... it's ruined.

disappointment.

2007-12-22T09:06:00.000-05:00

My arms are not really as toned as they look in this picture. In fact, they are so not toned that I've been telling people that this is the picture that makes me look ripped.

help-a-gaarface foundation.

2007-12-21T10:21:00.000-05:00

Spoiler Warning: There is an object below that gives away a lot of information about a lot of media properties, most in the past so it's okay but some recent. If you're afraid of having any of the following spoiled, you probably shouldn't look past this:

Star Wars, Planet of the Apes, The Usual Suspects, The Crying Game, The Sixth Sense, Harry Potter, Dallas, The Matrix, Fight Club, 300, Psycho, Lost, Citizen Kane, Soylent Green, A Beautiful Mind, The Village, Donnie Darko

That's how cool this shirt is.

Jamie did an upright thing and got me a birthday gift this year. In return, when his birthday came around, I went to see a movie in his presence that I was going to see anyway and didn't talk to him for the rest of the night. It seems unbalanced. So for Christmas he shouldn't get me a present (you hear that, Gaarface?) while I get him something to make up for my lack of effort.

My problem was getting him something of comparable value to the Criterion DVD he got me (The Royal Tenenbaums) but, as I've said previously, how do I get someone who owns more movies than I even know exist a DVD? Instead I turned to things I know more about (not necessarily more than he but more than I do movies), _________ (to be filled in after Christmas). Although the things I got him were collectively my second choice.

Of all places I saw this on Moviefone and this this is, understandably, sold out. It is a t-shirt. But an awesome t-shirt. I include a picture of the front below:

Perfect. It's from Threadless T-Shirt, a small company that, apparently, makes one run of a shirt and doesn't bring it back unless there's enough customer feedback. So I urge you, true believers: give them the feedback they need to bring this shirt back. If not for me, do it for Gaarface. Poor, pitiful Gaarface.

nick campbell, animal.

2007-12-19T22:58:00.000-05:00

My semester ended last Saturday with a dinner cooked by my Italian professor and a collection of our take-home finals. Since then I've been essentially free of obligation save from The Store, which holds my foreboding future, essentially a mandatory 40-hour week including a full day on Christmas Eve and closing shifts almost every night. I also worked last Sunday and Monday and will work this Thursday and Friday. Saturday will be dominated by making a video for a friend to give as a present. What this means: my only days lacking in obligation for my break between semesters was yesterday and today.

And yet, here I sit, in a tie and button-down, wearing a fedora, dressed fancy to type in my blog and update my MySpace and Facebook profiles. No trouble, no danger, no real excitement. Last night I stayed up to 3am after going to Landmark Diner, playing Wii for hours with Ian. I got my haircut today and now I'm texting back and forth with Becca.

I am an animal.

Anche: I'm starting to get tired of my music again. I might have to go on another music strike. This is what iTunes has served up to me while I type, most of these songs playing while I searched for that "music strike" post in my old MySpace blog (because I get so enthralled with my own writing):

"Demons" by Fatboy Slim (f/ Macy Gray)
"One Weak" by Deftones
"Coma" by Muse
"Lucky Guy" by The Muffs
"Under the Influence" by Eminem and D12
"Ricky's Theme" by Beastie Boys
"Derelict" by Beck
"Simple Man" by Deftones
"Empty Space" by Teenage Fanclub
"Mani in alto" by Jovanotti
"Idoless" by The Distillers
"Antidote" by The Hives
"Icky Thump" by The White Stripes
"Last" by Gratitude
"Sunshine" by Handsome Boy Modeling School
"Exit Music (for a Film)" by Radiohead
"Red Elephant" by Sunny Day Real Estate

I went to P'Cheen and scream-talked over the DJ with Jonathan and Erica for about forty-five minutes. I was introduced to many people, mostly as being the recluse and told often enough that my reputation had proceeded me. I'm not sure what that means.

i froth.

2007-12-11T13:04:00.000-05:00

The last piece of advice my dad had for me when we were eating dinner a few weeks ago was, "You want the A. You just need to get the A. Don't worry about anything else." We'd been talking about an HTML project for my Intro to Computer Science class. I complained for an hour about how my instructor was teaching my poor fellow classmates antiquated, deprecated and obsolete code. "His coding vocabulary hasn't been updated since 1997!" I scoffed. "He is still telling us to make sure our code works in both IE and Netscape when Netscape hasn't had a significant piece of the market in years!" I would never fall into the trap of writing incorrect code just for a grade. I would not settle for appealing to his ancient (by web standards) sensibilities. I've been working with web design for eight years. I have principles.

So I worked it all out. It took me a few hours but I got through all his criteria (make it so text sits between two images, make a table of these test scores, put horizontal rules here), plugged in a bunch of text that I was planning to use for a blog post and even some extra stuff because he said he was giving extra credit. For a page including his discontinuous criteria and created with nearly no thought put into it, it looked great. I used CSS for all the style elements (ignoring the <b>, <i>, <u>, and <center> tags he wanted us to use) and commented every piece of it so he knew what parts did what things (such as when he said he wanted us to make the links blue, for which he indicated we should do in the <body> tag with link="", I commented next to the a { color: #00f; } part of my style). I turned in a print out. I knew I had the 100.

So a few days later he passed the code print-outs back. I usually sit in the back of the class so when he was trying to hand mine back he just stood at the front and folded it over, waiting for me to stand up and take it from him. My instructor is small man, certainly from somewhere near or on the Subcontinent, so I towered over him, pulling the packet from his hand. Then, out loud, to the entire class he says in his thick accent:

"You did this in a program so I took 20 points off."

I was shocked. I handcode everything I do. Dreamweaver and the demonspawn that is Frontpage put out horrible code usually. Why would he think my beautifully-formated, web-standard code was put out by a machine?

Me: No I didn't.
He: Yes you did.
Me: I've been a web developer for 8 years. I know how to handcode my stuff.
He: See me after class.

This exchange prompted giggles from some others in the class who asked me, "If you've been a web developer for 8 years, why are you here?" Some buddies in the class answered for me, and I paraphrase: "For a film degree. Bite it."

My heart was pounding. Normally I would try to avoid the confrontation, accept the authority of my teacher and get along with the grade he gave me. But I couldn't wait to see him after class. I couldn't wait for me to show him how I did everything right, everything validated against modern web standards. I couldn't even pay attention in class because I was preparing myself for anything he could say. What about my code looks like it was from a machine? I could barely contain myself.

Class finally ended and I walked up to him. He took the code from me and said again, "You did this on a program." "No I didn't," I said firmly. Then he pointed to the item he believed was his evidence:

<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd">

The Doctype declaration. He said that was something programs inserted into code. I explained to him what this was: a way to tell the browser agent what code was to follow in order to avoid the browser having to make assumptions and displaying code improperly. Programs put that in there to adhere to web standards. I showed him in the code where I commented next to everything he wanted in the document to make sure it was obvious I knew what I was doing. A buddy of mine came up, saying, "Nick's just really smart." My teacher, with balls like cantaloupes, shook his head. "No," he says, "he's not smart." My jaw hit the floor. "But I'll give you the 20 points anyway." He couldn't prove that I did do it on a program. So he wrote my first name down ($10 says those extra points go to the other Nick in my class) and +20.

Amber Rhea warned me, telling me tales of people in the same situation with the same result. My dad, convinced my instructor gave me a hard time because I showed him up, warned me. So now I'll be accepting "Told ya so's."

I don't know if it was what he ate for breakfast that morning but he should probably switch off from the Unprofessional-Os and get on some All-Bran or Frosted Mini Wheats. I have his final in 45 minutes, which includes an HTML portion. I can't wait. I still have his evaluation to do at the end of the year and it's going to be something else.

Update: He offered us something as I walked into class. If we were happy with our grades up to that point (before the final) we could walk out and not take the final but keep those grades. I couldn't be sure what my grades were in that class since he (a) lost some of my homework and (b) might have screwed me on that HTML project. But when he handed the grades back to people, I looked and saw an A (including 100 points for the aforementioned assignment). I ran for that door so quick I almost knocked people over.

hoo-arr

2007-11-24T11:41:00.000-05:00

I'm starting to feel as though I only blog to impress myself with my own writing or to offer my Amazon Wish List around the gift-giving seasons. I really do have a lot of poignant posts started but never finished because I get bored with them. I suppose I'm only interested in ego masturbation or encouraging others to buy me things (which is like an ego hand-job really).

Anyway, here it is.

As always, I have stuff separated into different categories but the most important stuff is on the default list. That stuff, for those that don't like to click on links, includes:

And by Jonah Matranga
Malena Uncut Special Edition 2-Disc [Import]
adidas Sambas (black/white -- size 12)
The Fountain
The Complete Poems by Guido Cavalcanti (trans. by Mark Cirigliano -- or any translation with the original Italian)
D&G heavy tweed sports jacket

I know the D&G jacket is a little pricey, but it's worth it; I'll look really good wearing it.

Also: Don't think I forgot about you, Gaarface. I owe you a gift and have been thinking about it. But what do you get the man whose DVD collection includes 50% more movies than I've even heard of?

script advice from an outsider.

2007-11-01T15:34:00.000-05:00

There are times when you have to look at your story and make some hard decisions. You get stuck in a pattern, things start to get stale or you just find yourself writing in a direction for which you're not sure you want to see the result. It's time for an evaluation. It's time to take a long, hard look at your characters, your settings and your plot and see what can be cut in order to add newer and better things. In the end, you may have to write a person off the show.

I know it's hard. You have a lot invested in these characters and to just write them off so quickly is sometimes easier said than done. And things might turn around, right?

The first thing to do is to look at the situations your characters are in and make sure that they are, in fact, doomed. "Doomed," of course, is an abstract concept and depends on the script you're writing. Is your character caught in a cycle that you are far too comfortable writing her into? Is she facing insurmountable odds unnecessarily (and by this I mean the bad kind of insurmountable, the true, tragic kind of insurmountable)? Is your audience rolling its collective eyes at the stale storyline, impossible survival or repeated presence of something toxic and unpopular? If your answer is yes to any of these, it's time to start the process of creating the exit of this unfortunate aspect.

The actual exit might be the easiest part. You want to do it well, with style and grace and keeping in tune with the rest of the script. If the character is usually tranquil and understanding, writing a scene with yelling and screaming is not plausible, no matter how dramatic or entertaining you feel the writing is. Your audience will appreciate a tone that matches the rest of the show (it's why they stay tuned in, right?). You have to make it fit and give him a fitting end. Dropping him off a cliff or shooting him in the face in order to get rid of him is the stuff of soap operas. Your character (hopefully) is not in a soap opera (if your character is, see "Deaths from Which Your Character can be Resurrected and/or The Body Cannot be Identified"). Whether your show is a half-hour comedy or an hour-long drama on the CW, you have a duty to your character to follow the serial you've been working so hard on thus far.

After writing the character off the show you have to resist the temptation of bringing him back into the story. There will be many times over your (hopefully) long series run that you may run into issues of temporary boredom or just a loss of story and you'll get the feeling to bring this person back. Don't fall into that trap. You run the risk that you (and your character) will only fall back into that cycle or will diminish that good progress you made with your writing. Your audience will see this as a step back for your show and you may lose some of your faithful. Your audience is important no matter how good a storyline you have for this character.

So you may think to yourself, "Nick, my character has really made it far enough that I can avoid the pitfalls the old character made in his earlier episodes." That may be true. Try guest appearances at first. Sparse guest appearances. Work that character back in slowly. It's more natural than reintroducing this character and suddenly giving him a major role.

What you're trying to avoid is having your character upstage your series by making it a study of ridiculous recurring characters (think Urkel) or constantly resorting to unoriginal ideas (like the incessant Ben or Noel cliffhangers). If you really want for this character to return, evaluate your script again. The reintroduction has to not be completely ridiculous, unfounded or inherently damaging to your main character. She is the most important part of the show after all.

The safest bet is to leave dead characters dead. Your audience will respect you for it and your living characters can grow and continue on a natural progression. If you're feeling extra creative, maybe throw him in the background as a wink to your historical audience. He who portrays your character might be frustrated with his below-minor role status. But these days he'll probably get a spin-off anyway.

"sono morto"

2007-08-27T00:04:00.000-05:00

Cute, isn't it? We saw this stenciled on a pillar near the Arno and were deeply affected by it (Assisi who?). Now that Nicole has it permanently marked [MySpace link] on her body, my mind and internet searching skills are racked by this: where does it come from? "Sono morto" means "I am dead" or "I died" so I'm curious as to how two block people with T. Rex arms within quotation marks represent this. Wildly curious. If you know the answer, please let me in on it.

- - - - - - - - -

Non sono bravo con scrivendo italiano ma ho bisogno di sapere: di dov'è questo stencil? Io conosco che le parole significa (grazie -- il mio italiano non è così brutto) però voglio sapere: chi sta morendo (o era morto) ... chi ha fatto questo stencil ... è soltanto a Firenze ... è la morte in realtà un'orgasmo (così "le petit mort" nel francese) ... sul serio, ho bisogno di sapere!

wheels, man. wheels.

2007-08-09T22:02:00.000-05:00

If you've seen a blue blur streaking through the streets of the city, I have a pretty exciting explanation for you. Well, it's not really a streak ... if you've seen a really tall kid struggle embarrassingly up and down the hills of Atlanta, I can tell you what that is. Nick Campbell is with bicycle.

Sean Kiskel asked me a long while ago, "Nick, why don't you get a bike?" My response: "I find walking to be more stately." And I still believe this. There's a quiet dignity in plodding along unassisted by locomotive technology. It gives you time to think, to run through your day, and, if you're like me, time to imagine what you'd say to Jon Stewart when he interviews you. But it takes FOREVER. I live a five minute drive east of downtown and, somehow, it takes me twenty to thirty minutes to walk to any amenity: grocery store, train station, movie theatre, etc. And it's only getting worse. In the time I've lived in this area (about three and a half years) at least seven housing developments have come up less than a mile from Unit N with no concrete addition of infrastructure. If you keep putting condos up on all the land around the area, how will you build the things you need to help sustain them (gas stations, grocery stores, etc)?

When Erica moved to her new place off a major road that was not at all bike-friendly, she blew the dust off the Blue Devil (a blue mountain bike we bought together many years previous) and gave it to me to store. Now I use it. Jess saw my helmet earlier this week* and said my using a bike was rendering her world crumbled. But I get to places in a third of the time, sweating an equal amount (I'm still drenched in salt and my own filth but all at once while biking instead of steadily over a long period of time while walking) but still giving me more time to sit and watch Boy Meets World. Oh, that Rider Strong.

I'm probably not going to ride in Critical Mass and I'm not going to get all into my bike and talk about it like it's my nephew. I see this bike more like how people who buy jalopies their friends laugh at explain their hoopties: "It gets me from point A to point B." And it gets me there faster than my ADIDAS alone can.

* Jess saw me earlier this week at McCray's while we watched Katie perform live acoustic music. You should come and check her out Sundays at 8ish. She plays her own music and a few covers and she told me that if enough people come she'll cover "Thunder Kiss '65" by White Zombie. Or was it "Leggy Blonde" by The Flight of the Conchords? I can't remember.

seven seven seven.

2007-07-10T13:38:00.000-05:00

First, I would like to point out the power of a MySpace bulletin I saw this evening. Someone has assigned personality traits to each letter so, when an acrostic is created, you should get a peak into the life of whatever the letters spell out vertically. My name is:

N: Loves to have fun
I: You like to drink
C: You are really silly
K: You're wild and crazy

Not bad for a goody-goody fuddy-duddy. I even missed being great in bed (represented by both E and L -- along with "You like to drink," represented by A, I and R, these are the only two repeated phrases which leads me to believe this was created by someone named Ariel) which isn't that far off. I often miss being great in bed.

Zelda has stopped calling me long enough to mention something about 07/07/07.

All I've been able to talk about for the past year is how I want to do something memorable for the holiday of Triple Seven (as, I'm sure, Ringo Starr, Vonda Shepard and Cree Summer were also saying) but couldn't think of anything at all. I didn't have the time to go wrestling alligators, the money to go back to Italy, or the desire to go start the city on fire and laugh at its ashes (though there are days). Nothing was coming to me though. So when the opportunity came up to go back to Trader Vic's to see Dames Aflame, I conceded.

This is probably a surprise to anyone who talked to me after my first trip to Trader Vic's. The incomprehensibly large tiki bar under the Hilton Downtown looks the part but sounds like a movie set. You know how when you see dance scenes or busy indoor situations on a movie or TV show generally the sets are pretty quiet and the sounds are added in later. That's the way Trader Vic's is for most of the week: nothing but the soft whispers of everyone else saying, "Hey, it's really quiet in here." It was like a scene from The Shining (1980). I was ready for Jack Nicholson to ax through the bar at any moment.

So why go back? All in the interest of scantily clad women and the hope that they could liven up the place.

We (Mark, Sarrah, Erica, Jonathan, Audrey, Katie, Jamie, Robin, Jason O'Donnell, Joey and I) showed up at around 8:00 (the show started at 8:30 but we wanted to make sure we didn't miss any of the possible good times and have to deal with the creepy silence again) and crowded the bar until they could find a table for us. The band was just starting to warm up and Dames Aflame ladies were selling raffle tickets. Everyone told them it was my birthday as if that was going to get me a free raffle ticket or some sort of lap dance from Monkeyzuma. I sipped my No Tai Mai Tai and nodded in appreciation to the group of grass-skirt-wearing girls wishing me a happy birthday.

I should pause to say that I've been wearing a lot of ties lately. The week previous to this I got some weird hankering to wear a tie and, even though the knowledge of tying a professional knot has never taken in the past, I suddenly learned how to tie the Four in Hand knot so I've been about obsessed with wearing a tie, even buying two more so I can wear them more often. Let's face it: generally men look better when they're wearing a tie so I looked straight up foxy.

The table as finally ready for us and a waiter walked us back into an impossibly far away dining area. The noise from the band near the bar got softer and softer until it was barely there. It was as if I was Navidson and we were walking into a better lit corridor from House of Leaves. By the time we sat down the music was a faint whisper and we were surrounded by couples on dates and business partners grabbing a meal before bed. Certainly, this was an unfortunate set of circumstances.

But we tore it up anyway. We laughed and drank and howled until everyone around us was gone. Some people had their first experiences with Monkeyzuma. It was good times. Jonathan got me two games for the Wii [which is ridiculous because (a) that's way too much money and (b) my present to him for his birthday that I missed was a hat I brought back from Italy for a fifth of the cost of his present] which I play all the time now (one of those games was the new Legend of Zelda). Many drinks later (including two Coral Reef drinks made from strawberries, mango and coconut cream -- yes, girly non-alcoholic drinks but they were like delicious smoothies) we finally tabbed out to head to the next place.

Again, I wanted to make this a special night, one that, at the very least, when I have to think about doing something, I had to think about this night. So I thought about things I've never done before so my first time could be this evening. When asked where I wanted to go next, I said, continuing the scantily-clad women theme:

"Let's go to the Pony."

I hate lapdances. Well, I don't hate them but I do feel like they are the most horribly awkward experiences I've ever had. Generally, when a girl is rubbing against me, I like to be touching her. So when there's a girl's butt in my face or nipples near my ear lobes at a strip club, I'm not sure what to do with my hands or how my face should look (it's a fine line between appreciative and creepy) or what to say, if anything. I was insistent that I was not to get a lapdance this evening. I was perfectly fine with ogling the women from afar.

The hangers-on for the Pony included Jamie, Jonathan, Audrey, Joey and me. What people say about the Pony is true: the girls are generally better looking. There were two or three I thought were really hot (one of which was Audrey's favorite stripper from many moons ago when the woman was performing a Snow White bit) but it was a different woman, one I was not completely attracted to, who came over to me.

She: "Would you like a dance?"
Me: "Uh ... it's uh ... a little too early in the evening for that ..."

Yeah, a little too early for a naked woman to grind up on you. Way to go, Nick. My excuse was doomed to failure anyway, though, because my drunk girlfriend bought me the dance anyway. So there I was, trying to fix my eyes on whatever I was supposed to, not really able to enjoy the sights of a stranger waving her naked body in front of me with my girlfriend watching, who was slapping me if my eyes even drifted away from her chest or her backside. Seriously, lapdances are the most awkward experiences I've ever had. And I've been in some pretty compromising positions.

But the girls were all great, our server was pretty and nice (she even told the dancer it was my birthday -- although I don't think I received any special treatment) and I saw a lot of boobs. Good times.

It was home after that. Katie went upstairs and immediately passed out in the middle of the bed. I tried to move her but she'd just slip back to where it was comfortable. I huffed, stole a pillow from her and slept on the couch. Some minor drama between some drunken friends kept me and my phone awake for another hour or so but, otherwise, it was a great time.

Someone: Hey, Nick. Have you ever been to the Pony?
Nick: Yeah, man. I went on my 26th birthday.

Enough of this. I have some Zelda to play.

all the pretty wishes.

2007-06-27T22:51:00.000-05:00

Ladies and Gentlemen:

That time of year has once again returned where we mark the occasion of my birth. Sometime very early on the morning of July 7th I will have been on this planet for 26 years. I like presents and Cadbury, such a jealous rabbit, does not like to be left out.

When visiting the Amazon wish list don't forget about the nicely organized lists on the side!

Fig. 1: List of More Specific Lists

Anche: My birthday this year is 07/07/07. I want to do something incredibly awesome but I'm far too boring to come up with anything. Help me out. How can I spend this glorious Saturday? Tell me please. I'm open to anything (at the very least I'll hear you out). Audrey suggested an orgy. I'm not sure she was actually suggesting it but that's what I took from the conversation. The point is that no idea is too crazy.

PS: On an unrelated topic, how | about | Jessica Biel?

how was my trip.

2007-06-18T21:56:00.000-05:00

Dear Everyone:

Less than a week ago I was finishing a stay in Italy lasting nearly six weeks. I posted nothing here because my plan was to create a cohesive narrative, different from most of my other stories which are not so much tales as they are weakly-connected highlights. I'm having a lot of trouble doing that. I'm not sure if it's because of my usual memory loss or if it's because I'm having trouble distilling what my trip was.

I kept a journal although toward the end of the trip you could tell I was less interested in keeping track of day-to-day stuff. But at first I was committed to writing down as much as possible, so committed Ugo told me a couple times, "Hey, if you try to write everything down you'll miss the actual stuff going on." Something like that. I paraphrase so that's why it sounds a little like Ferris Bueller.

What I'm getting at is that I don't really have a reliable written document of my trip, just scribbling of things I found important that I swore I would flesh out later that night but never did and now my ailing memory is trying to reconstruct these things. People that have seen me since my return have all asked me, "How was your trip?" Where do I even start?

I've wanted to go to Italy ever since I was 15 when I started reading Dante, a writer that, even when I re-read the same text year after year still puts me in a humbled state of wonder. Ten years later I was there, standing in the same church he prayed in and spied on the woman that impressed him so much he wove her into one of the most important pieces of literature ever written. To be in his city, to see the same sites and to see the city's dedication (possibly remorse and guilt for his exile) to the man -- and I was only in Firenze for three days of my 34ish-day trip.

How was my trip? I don't have words that can accurately sum things up. Any time someone has asked I've struggled with my usual go to words like "awesome" and "amazing." How do you describe my view of Assisi from my bedroom window or being in the presence of thousands of years of history? How can you convey Piazza IV Novembre at night or the throngs at Gubbio during Festa dei Ceri? So far, I've compared the latter to being up front at the biggest concert festival you've ever been to but tighter by a hundred. When I'm asked in passing what Italy was like I don't have enough time to tell them how it really was -- just that, you know, it was pleasant to me.

I saw so many things, spoke (a lot of the time) a different language, made a lot of friends (one of which, sadly, will not translate over into the States -- we had fun while it lasted, Culp), and relaxed. I know that's completely cliché for an American to go to Italy and "finally relax" like I'm Diane Lane and I just spent some time under the Tuscan sun. But I wasn't in Tuscany. I was in Umbria (I'm still working on the map a little bit).

So my trip is a string of superlatives I won't even attempt to write since it'll just make everything sound like a Gene Shallot review. Although it was, in fact, a tour de force.

I can post pictures, some video, maybe even some scans of my notebook but I don't know that I can properly show you how my trip to Italy was. But I'll try real hard.

secret club.

2007-05-02T17:37:00.000-05:00

I was walking down Peachtree toward Bruster's before my exam (I felt since it was 2:15pm that I deserved a waffle cone) when a stranger ran up to me from the Aderhold direction. As a testament to how well my headphones work and how hardcore my music is, I couldn't understand a word he was saying. He looked a little crazy but he certainly wasn't angry. He was happy, jovial even. The man was grinning ear to ear and excitedly spoke with jerky hand gestures. I debated for a moment before pulling out my earbuds.

Me: Excuse me?
He: [with British accent] ... so great!
Me: Wha?

He noticed my confused look and pointed to my shirt. I forgot that I was wearing my Liverpool jersey.

Liverpool defeated Chelsea in the UEFA Champion's League semifinal yesterday in a shoot-out. I recorded it and caught most of the game today (my ineffectual DirecTV DVR cut off the last overtime period and shoot-out -- thanks for nothin') and decided to wear my jersey. Although I didn't think I would elicit any reactions.

So I played some sort of hand game with the very excited guy and he told me "good work." I walked on and got my ice cream cone, only to have people nod and congratulate me as I shoved double chocolate chunk in my mouth. Who knew there were so many people in my immediate area keeping up with UEFA? Outside of Liverpool, I don't really keep up, not even with the Italian teams (AC Milan is the other team on its way to Athens for May 23 tournament).

Apparently there is, in fact, a society only recently revealed to me that will cheer me on for liking a team based on a present given to me bought at Disney. Ahem, I mean, cheer me on for rooting for the Reds! Go Liverpool!

book of face.

2007-05-02T00:00:00.000-05:00

When facebook first came around I couldn't join because I was not yet back at university. Then, upon my return, I deemed that facebook was for the youth and that I was far too old (now, MySpace on the other hand ...). And now ... well, now I've collapsed under the burden of the 18,000th person to tell me I needed to be on facebook. And we all know how I react to peer pressure.

So I'm there now. At least the code's a lot cleaner than MySpace. But I'm not sure about this poking business. What's that all about? I don't want to get poked. Who wants to be poked? Poke that.

skulls.

2007-04-28T10:12:00.000-05:00

My mom and I have been seeing each other on a weekly basis lately, partly because I'm leaving for Italy in a week and a half, partly because she's more willing to come into the city -- probably influenced by the former. On our way back from the High we somehow got into a conversation about Il Purgatorio (because Dante is not usually very far from mind). About three sentences in my mom laughed, shook her head and said, "You and death."

What does that mean? Do I seem death-obsessed? I don't even think I'm morbidly-inclined. Although about 25% of my t-shirt collection does sport some kind death/skull/angel imagery (and I keep buyinig more). And I have three story ideas involvinig pre- and post-apocolyptic conditions. Do I talk about death a lot? I really hope not.

Off topic: Made a new mix CD of loud stuff. Some old, some new, hopefully nothing I repeat too often (I've been accused of being a "repeat offender" when it comes to CDs). There are 18 tracks with 5 rocks song sets separated by "breathers," all of which are hip-hop. This is the kind of CD Joey might like but Erica would hate.

loud. (v042807)

"March of the Pigs" by Nine Inch Nails (iTunes)
"Slaughterd" by Pantera (Last.fm)
"More Human than Human (Meet Bambi in the King's Harem Mix)" by White Zombie (iTunes)
"Shame" by Stabbing Westward (iTunes)
"Rapture" by Deftones (iTunes)
"Aliens (Hearing Aid Remix)" by Cassettes Won't Listen (IGN)
"Reckoning" by Unloco (Amazon)
"Assassin" by Muse (iTunes)
"Compagna Teresa" by Il teatro degli orrori (MySpace)
"Cold Sweat" by New End Original (iTunes)
"Bodies" by Smashing Pumpkins (iTunes)
"Hello New World" by Clipse (iTunes)
"Introduce the Metric System in Time" by The Hives (iTunes)
"The Shape of Punk to Come" by Refused (iTunes)
"1997 (Tonight We're Gonna Party Like It's ...)" by Sleepytime Gorilla Museum (iTunes)
"The Other Side of the Crash/Over and Out (of Control)" by Thursday (iTunes)
"Throw It On Me" by Timbaland featuring The Hives (iTunes)
"Tasmanian Pain Coaster" by El-P with Cedric (of The Mars Volta) (iTunes)

in un mese.

2007-04-04T14:15:00.000-05:00

My name is Nick Campbell. I am going to Italy.Il mio nome è Nick Campbell. Vado in Italia.

why tv is awesome, pt 2

2007-03-23T21:58:00.000-05:00

I don't think this episode was on recently but I used this in conversation with Katie the other day:

why tv is awesome, pt 1.

2007-03-22T18:27:00.000-05:00

I have been diseased since Monday night which affords me the opportunity to watch even more TV than I already watch. Now I catch Frasier in the morning and the block of TBS with King of Queens and Seinfeld, Scrubs at seven then it's prime time ... you get the idea. Some may wonder how I can watch so much and still feel like an intelligent person, how I sleep with myself at night. It's all for moments like this:

Also in Italian.

nick campbell is going green.

2007-03-06T22:44:00.000-05:00

Well, sort of.

As far as emissions go, I can't really get much more "green." My vehicle produces a bit of methane but I feel it's negligible. I could probably produce less trash and start recycling but that habit would never form with the daunting task of having to carry my recycling a mile and a half to the Whole Foods on Ponce. Many would be the times I'd say, "screw it" and toss the milk jug back into the trash can.

By going green I'm going to affect the fuel of my sole vehicle. Nick Campbell, gorger of Swiss Cake Rolls and plunderer of fast food, is going to start eating healthier. I hear you snicker a little bit and, believe me, even I'm snickering. But something has to change.

I waste a lot of my days. I go to school and work because of my innate sense of obligation but my free time, time for stuff I want to do, is wasted on Final Fantasy XII and watching TV. My motivation to get out of the house is only to ward off "cabin fever" and, even then, I'm good after a couple hours. My panic attacks have been more numerous (nothing severe or dibilitating ... just commanding more of my attention) and I feel sick a lot more often. Something's got to give and there are a few suggestions that a change in diet can at least help.

I'm not saying that eating some leafy greens with Cadbury is going to unburden me of self-imposed pressure but it can't hurt. If the healthy diet does nothing else I will be physically healthier. And that's good, right? I'm not expecting a full turnaround. Baby steps. Hopefully just acting on my diet will be a nice jolt. Maybe it'll even help with those methane emissions.

earn your way out of a friend's list.

2007-03-06T11:31:00.000-05:00

I rarely update my MySpace page anymore. Just yesterday I updated my television preferences which listed Arrested Development as one of my favorite still-running TV shows. The only reason I still go is to check messages essentially (I'm not even subscribed to anyone's blog -- and never have been).

Bulletins will sometimes attract my attention and I almost always pay the price, being witness to a lot of personal surveys of people I know too well from past surveys, posts for events I'll never go to (not that I'm uninterested ... just not motivated), and, the worst, the evolution of chain letters. For these I'm pleased to see the two options at the bottom of each bulletin:

You can send a private message to the one posting the bulletin, celebrating/thanking them for the information/joy they brought into your life or ...

... you can erase them forever so they can never ruin your MySpace experience again.

A little extreme but I like it. Well done, Tom.

the swiss invade lichtenstein!

2007-03-03T15:55:00.000-05:00

BBC News: Swiss in Liechtenstein 'invasion'

Troop: We've been walking for hours. Where the heck are we?
Officer: Fall in line, soldier.
T: Fall in line? The exercise was supposed to end like two hours ago. It's cold ...
O: What are you? A wuss? You're the defender of mother Switzerland's freedom! Cowboy up!
T: I don't recognize any of this.
O: Never been outside the country?
T: Of course I have. I've been to Austria, Italy, Germany ...
O: Apparently never Lichtenstein.
T: Lichten ... we're in freaking Lichtenstein?
O: About a kilometer and a half inside.
T: We're going to get in so much trouble.
O: Don't worry. I have a plan.
T: What's that?
O: We're going to take it.
T: Take what?
O: We're going to take Lichtenstein!
T: Take Lichtenstein? We're barely qualified to take a bath. Look at our party here.
O: What about it?
T: Dietzinger left to take a whiz half an hour ago, Stussi stopped somewhere to make a sandwich and three other guys hurt themselves picking their nose.
O: Really? Picking their noses?
T: They had to lie down.
O: They just need a leader!
T: No!
O: Someone they can believe in!
T: That's false!
O: Some motivation!
T: We're not taking Lichtenstein!
O: I don't appreciate your negativity.

if my life were a (more interesting) script.

2007-03-01T20:32:00.001-05:00

EXT. SYMPHONY HALL - NIGHT

The elegant facade of the symphony hall, complete with rotating spotlights and a red carpet in front, do not quite match the patrons flooding from its doors after a show. Instead of upper-class, middle-aged couples dressed in tuxedos and gowns, we see throngs of twenty-somethings barely wearing an undershirt between their frail frames and the world. One of those twenty-somethings is NICK, a young man cutting a dashing figure in a sea of aesthetic ignorance. He passes a large banner for the Campus MovieFest just as people start to take it down. Nick pulls out his iPod and starts clicking through the menus. Running after him is JAMIE, another young man whose film was just shown at the event.

Jamie (O.S.)

Nick! Wait up for a second!

With one earbud in, Nick turns around as Jamie approaches.

Nick

What's up, buddy?

Jamie

What are you doing?

Nick

Trying to figure out why my iPod insists on always playing Paul van Dyk.

Jamie

Well, we're all going out to drink away the pain. You want to come?

Nick

Nah, I think I'll pass. I'm going to see Katie up at ...

Jamie

Nick, do you want to make movies?

Nick

Well, yeah. It's why I went back to school.

Jamie

So do we. You passed on working on this thing with us and that's fine I guess but it couldn't hurt to hang out with some people that want to make stuff. And we don't bite. It's like easy networking.

Nick

Where are you guys going?

Jamie

Right by your house actually. Meeting up at a friend's off Corley and maybe to Johnny's.

Nick

Corley? Where the heck is that?

Jamie

I don't know. It's a street right by your house, I think.

Nick

I'm pretty sure you made that up.

Jamie

I'm pretty sure I didn't. I'll take it from your changing the subject that you're not into it.

Nick

I'm going to visit Katie at the Vortex first but after that I'll give you a call.

Jamie

All right. Have a good night.

Nick

Take it easy, brother.

Jamie walks away and Nick slips his earbud into the other ear. He walks away in the other direction.

int. vortex midtown - night

Nick walks in to a bar that used to be a familiar haunt but is now strange. He sees ARTIE the famous bartender with whom he's decently aquainted and gives him a wave.

artie

Get bent.

Nick retracts his hand slowly.

He walks around to the dining area where three poker tables are set up. At the far side he sees an old friend he (and most people) call STABLER sitting next to someone who, from afar, looks like someone Nick knows very well.

Nick

(to himself)

Nathan's here?

Nick mosies on over to the table, gives a wave to Stabler and drops a hand on the shoulder of Stabler's fellow poker player.

Nick

Hey, man, what's uh ...

The man seated turns. This is NOT NATHAN.

Nick

(looking straight ahead instead of at Not Nathan; muttering)

Oh, g ... you are not who I wanted to talk to.

not nathan

Excuse me?

Nick

Stabler, why did you let me tap a stranger?

Stabler

It happened way too fast, man. Besides, how do I know who you know and don't know.

(beat)

Who'd you think it was?

Not Nathan

Do I really not know you?

Nick

I thought it was Nathan.

Stabler

Nathan? Well, I mean, I guess a little bit from far away.

Not Nathan

Who's Nathan?

Nick

I guess that's what I'll tell myself so that I don't feel so incredibly awkward.

Not Nathan

Is Nathan at least good looking? I'd like to be mistaken for someone that's good looking.

Stabler

Besides, isn't that Nathan over there making out with your girlfriend?

Nick

(spinning around quickly)

The what?

Stabler

Psych.

if my life were a script.

2007-03-01T09:20:00.000-05:00

I've noticed over the past few months that my posts (especially after reading my MySpace blog) are a lot less personal. Whether that's good or bad is up to you I suppose. The reason why I've written less about myself and more about Italian television schedules is that the mundanity of my "work-and-school, work-and-school" life has not really inspired me to "write home" (so to speak). Don't believe my life can be that uninteresting?

Last night I went to watch a buddy's short film screening at the Atlanta Symphony Hall. After:

EXT. SYMPHONY HALL - NIGHT

The elegant facade of the symphony hall, complete with rotating spotlights and a red carpet in front, do not quite match the patrons flooding from its doors after a show. Instead of upper-class, middle-aged couples dressed in tuxedos and gowns, we see throngs of twenty-somethings barely wearing an undershirt between their frail frames and the world. One of those twenty-somethings is NICK, slightly more dressed up for the occasion but not by much. He passes a large banner for the Campus MovieFest just as people start to take it down. Nick pulls out his iPod and starts clicking through the menus.

Nick (V.O.)

Food.

He puts the ear buds in and we HEAR his MUSIC as he starts down Peachtree Street, a major road along which the symphony hall sits.

Nick (v.o.)

Food, food, food. All right. We'll head up to the Vortex and grab a bite. Sitting by myself and eating. I guess I can watch Katie zip around and unintentionally ignore me.

As he stops at a corner to wait on a light he looks up at the large office building in front of him.

Nick (V.O.)

Hi, Colony Square.

His eyes slide up the building until they reach the top where there is a small protrusion, almost like a shack or a small penthouse. He shakes his head vigorously and crosses the street with the light change.

Nick (V.O.)

Food.

The MUSIC goes OUT ON THE RIGHT SIDE. Nick is deeply troubled by this and plays with the iPod's headphone connection trying to get it right. The SOUND goes IN AND OUT until Nick gets frustrated.

Nick (V.O.)

(sighs)

Great. An awesome pair of headphones already gone. It's been two months!

Nick shuts the iPod off, wraps the headphones and slips the device into his back pocket. We HEAR the sounds of STREET NOISE now as he walks away.

int. vortex midtown - night

Nick walks in to a bar that used to be a familiar haunt but is now strange. He sees the famous bartender with whom he's decently aquainted and gives him a wave only for it not to be returned. Nick retracts his hand slowly.

He walks arond to the dining area where three poker tables are set up. At the far side he sees an old friend he (and most people) call STABLER sitting next to someone who, from afar, looks like someone Nick knows very well.

Nick (V.O.)

Nathan.

Nick mosies on over to the table, gives a wave to Stabler and drops a hand on the shoulder of Stabler's fellow poker player. He turns to Nick.

Nick (V.O.)

Aaa!

This is not the man Nick thought it was.

Nick

(trying to play it cool)

What's up, man?

not nathan

Not much.

Not Nathan holds out his hand for a half-shake/half-low-five. Nick complies with the stranger.

Not Nathan

Just trying to get to the final table, you know?

Nick

Right, right.

Nick looks at the cards being dealt for a moment then, as he doesn't know the person he just slapped hands with, loses interest quickly.

Nick (V.O.)

I can't eat here now.

tivu.

2007-02-28T15:18:00.000-05:00

So many of my fellow students in my film classes use films as their points of reference. They are usually amazed by how many films I haven't seen, so amazed I've started to feel like I need to pad my DVD collection a little more and to Netflix all kinds of classic movies I end up not watching and sending back. I make myself feel better by saying I watch more than my share of TV. Sure, I have trouble naming Howard Hawks films but I can recite lines from just about every episode of The State, rank series finales (M*A*S*H and Mad About You float to the top ... seriously), and remember what two actors has shows that opened both the early-90s version of ABC's TGIF and its resurrection in the late-90s (The Olsen Twins with Full House and Two of a Kind).

It seems natural, then, that I would seek out some Italian television in order to help me with my listening and speaking of the foreign language. In my search I came across the FOXTV Italia site. Some highlights of programming available on FOX:

Happy days
Malcom (Malcolm in the Middle)
Sabrina vita di strega (Sabrina the Teenage Witch)*
Settimo Cielo (Seventh Heaven)**
Streghe (Charmed)**
Tru Calling
Willy, il principe di Bel Air (The Fresh Prince of Bel Air)***

Apparently we're torturing the world with American refuse. I mean porting Tru Calling is just punishment. I think Eliza Dushku is hot but those pouty, shiny lips couldn't save that stinker. Sorry, Italy.

* Aired on ABC in United States.
** Aired on WB in United States.
*** Aired on NBC in United States.

out of the loop.

2007-02-28T14:17:00.000-05:00

I am the only one I know that wasn't familiar with Jason Swinks. Katie and Jonathan know him from the bar scene, the Dog People know him through his adoption of a pup through them and I'm getting a ton of bulletins on MySpace about his funeral today at 2pm. He seemed like a nice enough guy, tons of people who cared about him. I guess he was just one of the in-town characters people loved and, since I stay inside all the time, I just don't know him? I blame Final Fantasy XII. Read up on a very popular, very missed young man: Obituary: Jason Swinks.

More in Mourning:
A Bad Weekend for Rednecks, Good Ole Boys, and Girls Raised In The South (GRITS)
Jason Swinks's MySpace profile
Memorial at Star Bar after the 2pm service.

underdog, live action. no, seriously.

2007-02-24T19:59:00.000-05:00

During a marathon blog posting session a year and a half ago, I mentioned the rights for Underdog being picked up for a live-action picture. That's right: a live-action Underdog motion picture. Well, it'll be here in August.

In case you were wondering, yes, the dog speaks. Another stellar effort by the movie industry.

Il trailer di Underdog, il supercane! [Cineblog]
Underdog [IMDb]
Underdog Trailer [Apple Trailers]

nick campbell is (with parameters) number one!

2007-02-21T21:31:00.000-05:00

Oh, how long I've waited for this. I've been on the internet for many years now but, with my relatively generic name, it's been somewhat difficult to make it to the top of a search engine list. Now, finally, I've done it.

Though my own webpage doesn't even come into the top ten, this blog comes in at number one, finally beating the "My Hero" Project by Nick Campbell of Juneau, Alaskam [sic]. Take THAT kid in a big baseball cap writing about his hero Martin Luther King, Jr!

Okay, so you have to type in «"Nick Campbell" Atlanta» to pull it up in Google but there it is. Here's a screenshot for you.

Screenshot of great Google search results. 1024x671, 120KB

It's one of the highest accolades for a person who spends most of his internet existence talking about himself.

for when your friends can't decide what they want.

2007-02-14T13:22:00.000-05:00

Via Lifehacker I have found a solution for my problem of wanting to stuff my face with uncertainty of what I want to stuff it with.* Enter the Wheel of Food, a Wheel of Fortune type randomizer that selects restaurants based on ZIP code. Great for when you don't really feel like anything but you have nothing to eat at the house. And, if you're a gambler, great for randomly selecting a Valentine's Day restaurant (McDonald's is included after all).

I spun it and landed on Food Studio. If you insist, Wheel. If you insist.

* The man explaining the validity of "dangling preposition" is a linguistic professor. So suck it.

justice in the lust list.

2007-02-10T18:39:00.000-05:00

At the risk of sounding jealous and petty, I have to express some serious disappointment in Creative Loafing's "Lust List". My displeasure with the list is nothing new. Almost every year I look at the "hottest" service professionals in Atlanta and think, "Wha?"

I'm starting my campaign here. Nick Campbell is in the service industry. Nick Campbell is moderately attractive (at least interesting-looking). Nick Campbell is at the very least a conversation piece. I'm a great candidate and my answers to the mundane questions would be better. I mean, best celebrity chef Rachel Ray? Why not just say Emeril? BAM!

So, for next year, do Atlanta a favor and think Nick Campbell when casting your vote for the Lust List. It's the right thing to do. I don't think Kenny will mind.

alla faccia tua!

2007-02-07T14:45:00.000-05:00

My Italian class (which has become an exercise in how long an uncomfortable silence can last before the teacher or a knoweledgeable student intercedes) has taught me many things this semester but, possibly, one of the best is how to play the card game Scopa.

I was told this was a children's game, like how I used to play Go Fish or War ... but this is way more fun and, frankly, speaks to how much we believe American children are idiots. The first time I played Scopa I was surprised by how many ways you can score points (sadly, my only reference point of comparison is the time Joey and Chandler played Cups on Friends). But once you get all the relatively complex rules (complex compared to "you have any 7s? No? I'll go fish then.") it's pretty awesome. I've taught just about everyone I've hung out with in the past couple weeks how to play. And I have to tell you:

I am a master.

You should practice.

go slow.

2007-02-07T01:12:00.000-05:00

I sat at Lindbergh Center Station, waiting on a southbound train when a soft-spoken man with a duffel bag approached me.

He: The board up there says next Lindbergh train in 11 minutes ... where's the Airport train?
Me: Sometimes the trains don't register on the board. The next Airport train could be here in two minutes or twenty minutes.
He: Oh.

He walked around for a while but I plugged my headphones back into my ears if for nothing else but to avoid any crazy ranting (he seemed the type). He waved me down again, however, and I removed my earbuds.

He: Do you happen to have sixty cents? I'm on my way down to Grady and was hoping I could stop into McDonald's for a cheeseburger.
Me: I think I have a quarter.

I pulled the wad of shelving pins from my back pocket, sifted past my house key and plucked the quarter from the mess. He was grateful and I awaited the usual "God bless you" response. Instead, he looked at me, thanked me and:

He: Don't go so fast. Go slow.

As the southbound train arrived and breezed by me, he reiterated his words, walking away backward. "Go slow. Go slow."

Me: I'll try.

What kind of portent have I been issued?

sympathy for the omnislash.

2006-12-26T15:36:00.000-05:00

Cloud Strife from Final Fantasy VII

Lest some horrendous external event comes to rain disaster in late December, my Christmas is hardly ever ruined. My mom demands a Christmas list from me every year (even though now I'm far past the age where I should be making them) and my parents rarely go off book. I'd like to take this opportunity to welcome my new ADIDAS shoes, my new soccer ball, numerous DVDs and, of course, my new video iPod. Cadbury also made out like a bandit with all kinds of chew toys, hay, treats and a slicker brush (which he tries to eat). My brother Josh, however, always has the most interesting Christmases of all.

You may notice the picture of Cloud Strife here (I know, this is yet another post making reference to a Final Fantasy game). The picture is there as a comparative tool. Josh has two unwavering interests: weaponry and video games. Josh's "poison" of choice (so to speak) is swords and he usually has some sort of ridiculous blade waiting for him beneath the great seasonal evergreen: one year he got a Braveheart replica sword and in another he received a naginata (the Japanese halberd featured in the poorly edited story I wrote, Christmas with Gouki). This year, his two loves were combined with the Buster Sword, the giant weapon Cloud has tipped on his shoulder. The replica has to be at least twenty or thirty pounds and four feet long (complete with materia slots). My parents got it off (where else?) Amazon. Without further ado, I give you motion picture of Josh holding a giant sword.

Josh carrying his Buster Sword replica, 320x240, 624KB (Quicktime)

nyc: don't block the box.

2006-12-19T09:41:00.000-05:00

There's really too much to say about New York. I came out of Penn Station and was amazed. TV does not lie to you about the grandness of this city. Nothing I hate about Atlanta exists here: trains come every couple minutes, there are plenty of places to eat that aren't bars or $15/plate or chain restaurants, and you can walk to places. This city has an identity; Atlanta is trying to steal its own from others. This city functions; Atlanta is held together by paste and socially/environmentally-apathetic developers. This city is beautiful; Atlanta tries really hard.

But what would Katie love about this place? Sure, she would like the art, the scene, the not having to travel by car everywhere. But she would be in hysterics every couple of blocks on a major thoroughfare like 5th or 6th Ave. In each intersection is a painted area designating the boundaries of its interior: the box in which the two streets meet each other. Above each of these boxes is a sign that says, "Don't block the box - Fine + 2 points." She would have to be carried I think.

regali.

2006-12-12T10:58:00.000-05:00

Cadbury demands you check out his wish list at Gifthat. He expects something from each and every one of you.

You can also check out my (lamer) Amazon wish list.

abrupt end of transmission -and- deleted scenes.

2006-12-08T22:52:00.000-05:00

So I stopped writing about the production. I was boring myself with the entries and, since my blog is essentially just an opportunity for me to read my own composition, I just ended it. Also, the video didn't win due to various factors, not the least of which was that the purported "talent search" for a "credible show" was more of a "popularity contest" no matter how viable the talent was. I can't blame Yahoo! for choosing what was most popular; it's a good litmus test for how successful a show would be. It just turned out to be a different contest than I thought it was. Thanks to everyone that commented and voted.

There was plenty of good footage I couldn't include in the original version (Ian's been urging me to make a director's cut) so I thought I'd put up some deleted scenes.

This first one is the full version of the "Catch 22" segment. Sean did such a great job with this and, unfortunately, we had to cut it for time. But now his acting chops can be shown (complete with the original transition into the music video), his credit being given on a blog.

Catch 22/Count of Monte Cristo (full version), 320x240, 3.6MB

This next one is probably my favorite setup and joke of the entire shoot but I could never fit it in. For this video I also put some handy "in" and "not in" markers to let you know what made it in the final version and what didn't. From Ian's opening monologue:

Excerpt from Ian's Opening Monologue, 320x240, 2.9MB

Hopefully this isn't beating a dead horse but I think it's funny. I also think the three people that read this think so, too.

web of chaos: post-release diary, pt 3 (more pro-pro)

2006-12-01T16:53:00.000-05:00

Vote for Ian here!

Ian's video is officially entered in the Yahoo! Talent Show. Vote for it and leave a comment! You have through December 1st to do it! I'm using a lot of exclamation points!

While searching for props especially for the breakdance scene, Ian got this hot from a shop in Little 5. I'm always a little confused on what kind of hat is what but I think it's a fedora. I downloaded some Sinatra the other day so I was feeling kind of Rat-Packy and decided to try it on. Nothing but compliments. Since then, it's been a regular part of my wardrobe. I wear it around the house. I wore it all during the shoot (making it difficult to wear the headphones which may explain some of the floopy audio). I couple it with my Diesel jacket and look pretty awesome. It just goes to show you I'll do pretty much anything for positive recognition.

The scene for which we bought the hat was coming pretty close to production but, at five-ish on Tuesday evening, I quickly realized the time crunch I was going to be to tape it all. Sonny the Breakdancer wasn't going to be off work until 7pm. I told everyone involved with Dad's Garage shoot we were starting at 9 (although, since Dad's fell through and I couldn't secure another theatre, we decided to recreate it at my house) and I didn't have the phone number of everyone involved to tell them we might be a little late.

Actually, I did have the phone number for everyone except one: Becca. Becca was a good sport to help us out, especially since she got shoved in the face and pushed down to the ground take after take. At rehearsal she was pushed down to the concrete so many times it was ridiculous and I kept saying, "Again!" even though there was no way I could use the footage. And now, here I was, knowing I was going to be late at 5:00pm and could do nothing about it except try to hurry.

In the two hours we had before Sonny got off work we had to watch a small bit of Dr Phil (Katie's unguilty pleasure) before heading off to the store to pick up some ingredients for a Monte Cristo (the sandwich you see ever so briefly in the video. Sonny got off work a little early and we headed to the hotel Ian secured for us for the Breakdancing segment. Then, after arriving at the wrong hotel, we found the right one and went there.

The breakdancing scene is like many others on the Yahoo! Talent Show but our concept was this: a dude would be breakdancing for a while before Ian would break in and taunt him. The dude would challenge him and then Ian, in Michael Jackson/Ali G style, would gain a leather jacket and hat (the hat) and continue with a dance off. The dancer would fall defeated and Ian would walk out.

The shoot took dang near forever, a little over two hours (a little time dedicated to picking up Josh Campbell to help out with sound). I also laughed just about the whole time and it's the only time I was on screen, to act a fool. So if you want to see me hopping around like a doofus ... well, all you really had to do was ask.

Becca called me at some point and I somehow said we'd be back there by 9 still. We didn't leave there until about twenty after. So Becca ended up having to go to Borders to wander around while my other friends (who know me better) knew I really meant 9:30, 10:00 with my 9:00 call time.

This is getting long and is very uninteresting I think. I'll cut it short.

[to be continued ...]

web of chaos: post-release diary, pt 2 (pro-pro)

2006-11-30T09:49:00.001-05:00

Vote for Ian here!

Ian's video is officially entered in the Yahoo! Talent Show. Vote for it and leave a comment! You have through December 1st to do it! I'm using a lot of exclamation points!

I start off my mornings now checking the Talent Show site to see who made it into the "Our Faves" category and who has been featured in the intro video. All day I refresh Ian's profile to watch the total views on the video increment slowly (at last check he was at 242). "Spyder" might be a little more obsessed, taking to heart all comments, both negative and positive. "Why are people wasting their time trying to snipe our video?" he asks. "It's the freaking internet," I say. "It's what they do."

We may have been a little cocky when production started. After taking the necessary workshop I needed at school in order to check out equipment (a light kit and microphones), we convened back at my house where we started to prepare for the shoot starting later that day (Monday the 20th). Our plan was thus: get done with shooting Monday and Tuesday, edit Wednesday and Thursday, upload by Friday. That would give us the weekend for people to vote on it and still an extra week for it to be on the site.

That's when Dad's Garage fell through. I'm not sure what happened but Dana came back and essentially told me it wasn't going to happen since no one was there. So the people that were going to come over for the shoot instead came over for a rehearsal of the "Backstage" scene and I determined I would just find another location by the following night.

By not shooting those scenes at the theatre (almost half the entire content of the video), however, we had to condense all our production time to Tuesday. At the time, we didn't really sweat it. The length of the video had to come under ten minutes and most of the videos we were spoofing were no longer than thirty seconds. How long could these shoots take?

Oh, was I ever so young?

Filming began at 11am at the home of Sean Kiskel, who was to star in our version of the Catch 22 song, a little ditty about the stats one can find about the book Catch 22 on Amazon. The concept: Sean is trying to find the next hit Catch 22 song, stopping in frustration. Ian comes into the room, claiming the song to be old, tired and dead (by his hands). Ian then shows him "something new," leading into a short music video about The Count of Monte Cristo. That shoot went awesome. I got all kinds of coverage, I got to watch Sean fall down a lot and the stuff we shot for the music video was pretty killer. We finished a little behind on time but we still felt good.

Then we headed up to Alpharetta/Roswell for shoots at Rich's house and a local hotel. Rich's place was the site for our parody of Everybody Wants a Panda, featuring Trackside's favorite bartender, Jonathan. The point here was to interrupt Jonathan in his extolling of the non-bears with Ian's claims that he loves pandas more. Then Ian would dive into Brian's collection of stuffed pandas in nothing but a robe and sparkly boxers (that Katie picked out), rolling around and seductively singing the same song. I started running into audio problems here, mostly because I stopped directing and became a spectator. You can barely hear Ian for most of the later part of the segment, not to mention also the light changes for part of it. Stupid sun.

After that it was a wait until 7pm before our actor for the Breakdance scene was off work. Suddenly, I realized the crunch we were going to be in.

[to be continued ... ]

web of chaos: post-release diary, pt 1 (pre-pro)

2006-11-28T12:50:00.000-05:00

Vote for Ian here!

Ian's video is officially entered in the Yahoo! Talent Show. Vote for it and leave a comment! You have through December 1st to do it! I'm using a lot of exclamation points!

In that realm of time that blurs Monday and Tuesday, I tried hard to stay awake. My body was still feeling the ill effects of waking up at 3:50am for work and I was dangerously close to being up for 24 hours. My eyes started to shut on their own, my breathing was heavily supplemented by yawning and my mind started a routine akin to turning off all the lights in a factory: one by one processes started to prepare for quitting time. This bedraggled feeling was well-known to me by now since it was my entire week. Care left me; I was left with no care. Finally, I clicked export and collapsed on my bed, knowing it would take my sweet computer at least and hour to render the nearly ten minute long video.

A little background: a few years ago Ian and I were involved in a contest put on by Bluetorch to choose a new host (in the midst of MTV's VJ contest). You had to rack up a ton of votes online first (viewers voted on contestants' worthiness based on profiles and informal interview), then survive an elimination round before producing your own video. The finalists then took their video with them to California where they lived in a house with other strangers who wanted to be on TV. After being filmed for a week doing all sorts of things (like a far less extreme version of Real World vs Road Rules) and then the producers made their final decision. Ian tested really well but never officially heard any word. Bluetorch filed for bankruptcy.

On the 14th or 16th (I can't really remember anymore) I came across a similar contest put on by Yahoo! -- they call it a Talent Show. I'll spare you of the particulars but people upload whacky videos in hopes the judges will deem them worthy of the grand prize: $50,000 and a show on Yahoo!.

So here we are, doing this all over again for another company (albeit an exponentially larger, more financially stable company) with a more streamlined approach. We're older and wiser (though, as I learned throughout the shoot, a little more grandiose). And with the quality of the videos online already, how can we lose?

After seeing the ad for the Yahoo! Talent Show (pathetically) on MySpace, Ian and I started to plan out the concept: the video would start with the ending of one of his shows, complete with credits, then move on to him being a jerk backstage, a monologue describing his qualities while taunting other contestants, and then finish up with several spoofs of some uploaded videos.

Just before I discovered the contest I saw my buddy Jamie. Just coming from a shoot himself he gave me a phrase in reference to how his friends knew the lingo and generally what to do but only from what they saw on TV and in the movies. It stuck with me throughout my own directorial effort: playing Cowboys and Indians.

I (thought I) planned vigorously. I drew storyboards and compiled prop, cast and locations lists. I pulled my friends to participate, which they did generously for zero dollars and a small bit of a lunch meat platter. I called Dana, who was in the midst of moving out, to see if I could use Dad's Garage as a location (to which Dana received positive replies) and Ian found our other locations. Things were going swimmingly.

I remember reading the script/production diary for π and wondering why Darren Aronofsky said he was having such a hard time with making a movie, dealing with feelings of physical pain brought on by the stress of the production. I didn't wrap my head around the idea and, even as recently as two weeks ago, I still held that stance. Soon, at least on a smaller level, I would completely understand.

[to be continued ... ]

rent the space under nick.

2006-11-14T08:35:00.000-05:00

It behooves Dana to get out of Unit N as soon as possible so we will have her room to rent out very soon. If you need a place to sleep, here are some details:

3 bed/2 bath converted loft
Huge general living area
Nestled in the party capital of Atlanta: the Virginia Cotton Docks
Located less than half a block from the corner of Highland and Sampson near plenty of restaurants ...
- Johnny's Pizza
- Roman Lily Cafe (for now)
- Highland Bakery
- Zuma
- P'Cheen (Creative Loafing's pick for Best Neighborhood Bar
Live with two handsome devils: Nick and Garrett
Located in the Old Fourth Ward
Within walking distance from Inman Park, Cabbagetown, Sweet Auburn
Within Nick walking distance of: Poncey-Highlands, Midtown, Downtown, Little 5 Points, Candler Park, the Edgewood shopping district and the Virginia-Highlands.
$450/month + utilities

We are hoping to find someone we know a little bit first but are open to anyone (dependable) seeking shelter. Drop me a line if you're interested: thatkidnick -at- gmail.com.

The Gris and the Hani?

2006-11-10T14:42:00.000-05:00

One is Gil Grissom from CSI. The other is the prime minister of Palestine. Maybe it's my facial recognition but I think one could stunt double for the other. Think about it, Haniya. If you step down from office in order to re-establish aid to Palestine, what would you do with your time? You could do worse than putting that grimace to work in Vegas.

sono? so? no. so no.

2006-11-10T13:26:00.000-05:00

Can we all please agree to completely ignore this trend of SoNo? Seriously.

The area south of North Ave and north of Ralph McGill (Peachtree and Piedmont only) can not dub itself a bastardization of SoHo. I mean, outside of a couple bars (O'Terrill's, Django), the Shakespeare Tavern, Chicken and Waffles, The Civic Center and a Publix, what's this area have to offer that it needs a new stupid name? Nothing. Also, do I need to remind every one that this name is completely stupid? I first saw this on a billboard for a condo development. Now I'm seeing it on the "district guides" scattered throughout downtown. It's completely ridiculous.

So, let's just all try to ignore this foolishness and, maybe, when we turn back around, the pro-SoNo residents will feel shame. My hopes are that this will fade away into nothing more than blips on the City of Atlanta's hopeless branding scheme.

Laugh with me and then ignore it forever: http://www.sonoatlanta.com.
PS: The domain has to be sonoatlanta.com to clarify that it is not one of its predecessors such of SoNo, CT (South Norfolk).

because there's so much to eat.

2006-11-04T18:37:00.000-05:00

I love to get presents. I like giving them, too, but I love to get them, especially when it's something I didn't ask for but really wanted. This might stem from my parents who showered me with affection and gifts; I joke sometimes that my mother showed her love for me by giving me treats (a behavior she still exhibits today with the advent of Amazon.com and the ability to ship). So you would think Christmas and my birthday to be the two brightest days of the year for me. I would, too. There is, however, one day that may shine just as bright or brighter. There is one day when I can eat my fill for free and still hang out and play all day. There is one day when my friends seem to unite in a common cause. That cause: chili. Ladies and gentlemen, the Cabbagetown Chomp and Stomp.

For those that have no idea what I'm talking about: Chomp and Stomp is a festival held on the first Saturday in November in Cabbagetown (that neighborhood between Oakland Cemetery, Reynoldstown, Inman Park and the Fulton Cotton Mill Lofts). The "Stomp" is pretty much for the live bluegrass music and the path of arts and crafts vendors. The "Chomp," though, is why I go. Chomp and Stomp is also a huge chili cook-off.

There are separate competitions between local restaurants and amateurs and winners get bragging rights. There were eight restaurants there this year, I think, but a ton of amateurs, all lined up down the street. $5 gets you a taste of the restaurant chili but amateur delights are free. And, since the corporate sponsored stuff is usually bland at best, it's a good deal.

Joey and I went from one end of the line to the other, only taking two breaks: one because the Metalhead chili was way hot and was ruining our taste for others and the other because we needed to break it up. My buddy Sean Kiskel entered his delicious chocolate chili and, had his chili not been so popular, he would have had enough to feed the judges and win the competition. Sadly, after three batches, the people sopped up his chances. A win in my (and his) book but still.

Rescue Me! Animal Project also had a stand there for animal adoptions so Erica was definitely there. Not to mention Mark, Sarrah, Clif, Kristin, Jenn Bunn, Chris Kirksey and a young man I used to call Revans. There were plenty of others; it's like a melting pot event for all my friends.

Also present was a boy named Mercer. I'd never met Mercer previously but his mother invited me to kick a ball around with her and her son. We kicked it around for a while before his mother said, "I'll be back in like 15 minutes." So, it was Mercer and I for a while, kicking the ball back and forth to each other and to passers by. It was a lot of fun. I totally got into it.

As the sun set and the chili supply dried up, we started making our way back (also we tried to escape the clutches of Erica who was sloppy drunk from God knows how many cups of Sweetwater and tried to embarrass Joey and I to death). I looked back at the park while walking away and smiled. Kristen (from Rescue Me!, not from the recent union to Clif) said it best when she said it was my "special day." It was delicious.

By the way, the chili from Fire on the Mountain was the best of the day to me, no matter who actually won the competition.

I love Chomp and Stomp.

TV not for Nick: Project MyWorld

2006-10-26T12:00:00.000-05:00

Project MyWorld
Starring Renee Intlekofer, Shaina Fewell, and Taryn Southern
Created by Renee Intlekofer and Shaina Fewell
Monday, 6pm DirecTV Channel 101

In an awesome bit of synergy, Rupert Murdoch is spreading the oversaturated name of MySpace via one of his other holdings, DirecTV. On Channel 101, not the indie video site but the DirecTV "exclusive" station (from which certain shows are recorded automatically into the "Showcase" section if you have the DirecTV DVR), you can catch the three girls as they traipse about Europe on a mission: bringing MySpace to real life. Renee is looking for "Mr Right" by perusing MySpace profiles and meeting up with these people. Taryn is apparently along for the ride. And then there's Shaina, the rock 'n' roll brunette musician with an absent father. Yes. Anyway, she's looking for bands.

"So, oh my God, you guys." You expect this to be said before every staged confessional. And I know that most reality television confessionals are staged and done in multiple takes but at least the editors and "participants" provide the illusion. But the production values aren't on trial. It's a reality show and that genre pretty much as their style down. What horrifies me is watching these girls bounce around Europe, flitting around from guys and musicians and totally embarrassing America. No wonder everyone hates us. I know a lot of countries don't agree with our foreign policy (neither do a lot of Americans) but I would hate us, too, if I had to deal with these girls as US Ambassadors.

Yes, the girls are perpetually annoying. Yes, it's like watching a giant train wreck take place in several exotic locations. The only thing that really saves this show, however, is being able to see these places in Europe that wouldn't necessarily be shown on travel programs because they're "partying with the natives." If those milksops could be removed from the program while leaving everything else in tact, you know, like the music scene and local activities and such, this show might be okay.

I kind of look at this program like Linkin Park: the production is solid and the music isn't horrible, but then the the rapper comes in and ruins the whole gig. But since Mike Shinoda is the producer, he really kind of has free reign so you either have to take it or leave it.

I leave it.

TV for Nick: Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip

2006-10-17T11:25:00.000-05:00

Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip
Starring Matthew Perry, Amanda Peet, Bradley Whitford, D.L. Hughley
Created by Aaron Sorkin
Monday, 10pm NBC

I love TV, I mean real TV. I have a satellite but use very little of it, staying within the confines of ESPN, Comedy Central, some various other channels showing reruns of great shows, and my tried and true (and ever-expanding and contracting -- hello, CW) broadcast channels. I watch more on NBC than any other network and always have: from Seinfeld and Mad About You through (guiltily) Friends and Scrubs. I lived and died by the first couple seasons of Ed and even caught more than a few episodes of the promising but disappointing Providence. My late night is Conan and my hope for the future is the Thursday night block of My Name is Earl/The Office.

Needless to say, I caught my fair share of The West Wing but I was probably going to anyway: you see, I'm an OG Sorkin fan, back when he was on that other "_BC" with Sports Night though my exposure during its first run was somewhat limited. When Comedy Central breathed new life into the series in reruns, I was hooked on the dialogue, the situations, the intelligence. It was a coherent show looking at actual problems. They didn't waste time on the melodramatic soap opera storylines trapping most dramas nor did they sink to sit-com lows. The characters, though far more clever, eloquent and light-hearted than anyone in real life, were real and tangible. This became Aaron Sorkin's style, a style he seems to have refined in the past eight years.

Studio 60 is the grand mixture of the quick-paced, meticulous production in Sports Night (the details on that show were mind-boggling sometimes, right down to the continuity of monitors in the background) and the storyline/character/dialogue refinement cultivated during The West Wing. What we get is a series of characters we care about in situations we feel for speaking in such a way that we know isn't real life but we almost wish it were. Combine that with a cast specializing in delivery (Matthew Perry, DL Hughley, Bradley Whitford) with an immense sharpness and suddenly this show is a monster waiting to happen.

Also, I like shows that feature behind-the-scenes at a TV show. It's neat

So catch the show. It's worth watching for sure. If Monday night doesn't do it for you, record it and watch it instead of ER on Thursday. You know ER: it's that doctor show with Uncle Jesse.

bunny.

2006-10-01T21:35:00.000-05:00

Cadbury, a Rabbit of Taste and Scholar

Look at this picture. It's adorable. You may also recognize this little guy from the front page video on my barely functional, perpetually under construction, stagnating site. But instead of being in one of Erica's extra rooms, this cute little guy is sitting in my locker of Dante books (locker #153). There's a reason for this and it goes thusly.

Let me preface by saying I've never really been a big fan of Erica's dog, Yogi. It's not necessarily Yogi's fault but he has a lot going against him from the beginning: (a) I'm not a dog person, (b) I don't like big animals for pets, (c) I usually don't like dogs that don't act like my family dog (now passed -- rest comfortably, Niya) and (d) I don't like animals that seem afraid of me for no reason. I'm a fairly easy-going person that moves relatively slow. But Yogi has had a rough life, living on the streets for years and, most probably, in an abusive home at some point, so he's very skittish around me. He races around the room with any slight sudden movement I make, pacing in such a way that I'm not sure if he's sizing me up or if he's so scared he's not sure where to go to be safe. He also likes to take small dumps ("nervous poo" we call it) when I come in to take care of him while Erica's on vacation.

Yogi is just one of the animals in Erica's zoo: she also has two cats, another dog (her first, Maeby), now a foster dog (Parker -- please adopt Parker), two cats (Bo and Jangles) and she used to have two rabbits (Cadbury and Smooshface). The list of importance to me of animals in the house: (1) Cadbury, (2) Bo, (3) Smooshface, (4) Maeby, (5) Jangles and a distant (6) Yogi (Parker doesn't really count since she's not really Erica's).

Smooshface was a cute rabbit with all white fur and a small, flat face (hence my clever, clever name). She was adventurous and bold, a rebel. She raced around wherever she wanted, flipping over plastic igloos with reckless abandon, pooing wherever she felt a pellet of feces was necessary, caution to the wind ... a true devil-may-care attitude. Cadbury, a normally cautious little guy, rode the wave with his roommate like so many other movie clichès featuring a more-or-less boring male protagonist and the new fly-by-the-seat-of-her-tight-pants girl in his life (see Dharma and Greg and Forces of Nature for examples). But it was certainly Smooshface's bold curiousity that would lead to her demise.

Erica was outside when Yogi found a way into the rabbit room. I imagine the rabbits both hid but Smooshface was the first to come out and check out the scene. Yogi barked wildly before attacking then mauled her so fiercely she was somewhere between catatonia and seizure when Erica found her. But she was still alive. Erica rushed to gather her things to get her to an emergency animal vet but Yogi found his way back in and finished her off.

When we buried Smooshface I couldn't even look at the body. Erica called me at work to tell me, sobbing, of what happened. And, I kid you not, I was probably more affected by Smooshface's untimely (and gruesome) death than I was when my mom told me the family dog, our pet for ten or more years, walked into the light. When Erica relayed to me the events through tears and short-breaths I had to sit down. And the burial, in a plot behind her house beneath an old climbing tree, was emotional.

I didn't cry or anything but it was certainly sad.

I've never had a real pet of my own. I had hermit crabs for a while but it's not like they're all that snuggly and, seriously, I don't really think they understood my existence outside of the giant's presence coincided with new food and clean water. But I've never really wanted a pet. Dogs are too needy; cats are too much trouble. Both could possibly kill me. If I were going to get a pet, it was going to have to be one I could understand. I don't get dogs, unconditionally loyal and rough ... and the barking. Oh, the barking. Cats I get better but tend to be self-serving to the point of distraction. Rabbits, though. Rabbits I get.

What other animal combines the great parts of a cat (self-cleaning, quiet, adorable, trained to poo in its own little section of the world), the adventurousness of a dog while maintaining a sense of autonomy? Everytime I went to visit the Rabbits when Erica was away I understood that they would allow me to stick around but didn't really care whether I was there or not. Really, they had better things to do like sniff the floor, eat hay and gnaw on everything.

The thought of Cadbury ending up in Yogi's hideous maw was too much for me to bear so I offered Erica a new home for the small creature. And now here he is. Cadbury and I have been happy roommates for almost two weeks now. I feed him a salad of assorted vegetables each morning (which means I also have to eat more "rabbit food" since he doesn't eat nearly as much as I have to buy), make sure there's nothing horribly dangerous for him to gnaw on/jump into/knock over in my room and he's free to roam wherever he wants. I'm not sure how much he cares that I'm around (especially since he grunts at me sometimes when I invade his space -- yes, rabbits grunt ... and honk) but we get along fine. And the allergy? Well, it's there, of course, but not nearly like cats or dogs. Some OTC Clariton or a refill of my Zyrtec should do me just fine.

And sadly I've become one of those guys that talks about his pet as if the people around him care. What an equally joyous occasion for saving a life yet horrible fall from social grace and conversational content this is.

frustration.

2006-09-13T09:33:00.000-05:00

I look around lately and I'm completely frustrated. So many things going on with my peers, on television ... everywhere I look I'm dissatisfied, disappointed. I didn't think the brunt was going to have to fall on me. But I'm going to have to take this business into my own hands. These other guys don't know how to act.

I have to bring Sexy back.Devo a restituire sexy.

Well, me and my buddy Just Justin.

so much poopie.

2006-09-06T21:41:00.000-05:00

I almost never close. Generally, I'm only at work in the morning hours and rarely ever am in charge of helping close the Store down. Thursday night was an exception. Thursday night was the worst night I'd ever spent there.

I was there to cover someone's shift and ended up in the roll sheet for closing duties: cleaning the men's bathroom. In the four years I've spent with the Company, I've cleaned the bathrooms about three times. But that's okay. I roll with the punches and can figure out the sure-to-be arcane process they want us to follow to do my chore. I sucked it up.

A newer girl was in charge of cleaning the women's restroom. I harkened back to just a couple hours previous when I was commenting to a work buddy how awful that general area smelled but, upon entering the men's room, I saw nothing to be disgusted by. That's when she launched out of the girl's room shrieking.

"Lord Jesus, help me," she cried. "There is no way on God's green earth ..."

I went in and opened the door to stall 1. Explosive diarrhea. Everywhere. Except in the toilet.

The rest of the closing crew came over to check it out and immediately started gagging. I was laughing too hard. Greenish-brown sludge slid down the walls and pooled behind seat and behind the bowl. It seriously projectiled out and, surprisingly, no one seemed to notice a woman scurrying out of the building covered in dookie. Because no one could make a mess like that and escape clean.

It should be noted I can smell very little. My sniffer is notoriously awful when it comes to picking up a scent and I've been questioned many times about why I love food so much when I can't even taste it. That is something to be answered at another time.

So I was the only one not gagging. The vision alone was enough to summon the previous meal but, once I regained my composure, my steel-walled stomach held its ground. As soon as I was the only one able to keep calm before the intestinal explosion, the mop was passed to me.

I probably worked at the mess for almost an hour, scrubbing and wiping, pushing brownish-green water around and bossing my weaker associates. "Bring me more mop water!" "I need a trash bag!" While I worked in one stall, the other two worked on cleaning out the "magic box" in the other only to find used tampons outside of the biohazard bag. "You hold the bag and I'll clean out the box," the girl nearly whimpered. So he held the bag at an arm's length while she scooped the contents of the box up into her begloved hand. As soon as he took a look at the material, the guy dropped the bag and dashed out of the room, nearly vomiting. I put down my poopie mop and picked up the bag, if only to stop the whining from the girl holding someone's used plug.

When 10:00 rolled around, I was told to stop cleaning. Maintenence people were going to come in the morning and I'd made good progress, cleaning about 60 - 70% of the mess. I left: traces in the brick wall, some spattering on the stall walls, a pool behind the commode and some runnoff into the next stall and around the base of the toilet. I listened to my cohorts complain about needing a raise the whole time.

About two years ago, I was sitting in a comfortable chair in my cubicle, waiting for editorial to send me stories to publish.

ripped.

2006-09-02T19:11:00.000-05:00

This is a comment I posted on my buddy Kyle's blog today. Discuss.

As a person has been for a long time attracted to jeans with "destruction" (and, for nearly the same amount of time, the butt of the anti-culture's jokes) I feel I need to come up to defend my favorite pair of jeans.

My favorite pair of jeans are a pair of Lucky's, the name of the type escaping me now. But they came with bleach spots across the leg, tears in both the right knee and on the outside of the left pocket (not the pocket itself) and rips around the right pocket. They were $120 when I bought them. Now, I know what you're thinking. Why pay more for less material? And why pay more to have the remaining material shredded?

Here's the thing about these jeans: (1) they're meant to be extremely casual (you can't say they compete with Dockers or any other slacks because those are made for different things), (2) they're meant to be dress-up clothes for going out (they're not "work jeans"), and, at the risk of showing my metrosexual, (3) they fit incredibly. They are snug in the places they need to be, the material is soft yet durable and they are faded and fitted to look their best (for their condition). Diesel, Lucky, G-Star, even Ben Sherman on occasion, they all make the perfect jeans: broken in, comfortable, well-fitting and with character. The next thought that comes to mind: why not just buy a pair of cheap jeans and "destroy" them?

It's not the same. You'll never have all the criteria these jeans meet in a pair you buy sans destruction. You may get the destruction and (if you're lucky) the fit right but the durability is out the window. It's just a look and feel people can't do (easily) at home.

With that said, Mossimo (the Target Brand) has come out with some jeans lately that range from $25-35 with the same type of look (not usually as pronounced) that aren't half bad if you can find the right ones. It may take some digging but I've found a couple pairs with the right fade, destruction and fit for a lot cheaper.

But they still don't compare to that $250 pair of Diesels. Sigh.

do you want a cookie?

2006-09-01T12:30:00.000-05:00

"... we’re gonna have to be bilingual; we’re gonna have to be, and English speakers hate this!
~ 'Two languages in one head? No one can live at that speed! Good Lord, man! You’re asking the impossible!'
~~ 'But the Dutch speak four languages and smoke marijuana.'
~ 'Yes, but they’re cheating!'"
- Eddie Izzard
excerpt from Dress to Kill

My reasons for choosing Italian when taking the required language courses (instead of taking Spanish, a language I have far more experience with) was to, of course, read Dante in his native tongue. The distant secondary reason was to not sound like an American buttmunch reading from a travel guide if I ever visited Italy. But it was mostly to understand the exact words Dante committed to La Commedia and see the depth so many translators have noted before me.

And I'm getting there. I can read Italian and look up verbs I don't know, use context clues for nouns I haven't covered yet. Even though I'm still translating in my head (instead of, as my professor this semester puts it, "thinking in Italian") it's starting to clear up and the simpler words have actual meanings instead of just English equivalents. My speaking, though, leaves a lot to be desired.

This may be because the only real continual education I've had (over the summer) was writing to my Italian teacher from last semester (a native Venetian) via email. And even though I'm still skeptical that what I'm writing actually makes sense (like how I said, facetiously, that if she ever needed help with English to let me know -- as if I didn't have enough trouble communicating sarcasm via the emotionless internet now I'm going to try in a language I've had a semester and three weeks of?) the time I spend on each letter decreases more and more (hopefully because I'm learning). The problem is I can't translate that writing to forming words.

My last two classes have shown a certain vulnerability I don't like in my linguistic skills: the inability to understand a person speaking at a normal speed and respond in a timely manner. Wednesday was class time devoted to Italian writers. It was like a class I'd studied my entire life for. I started rattling off names like Dante Alighieri, Guido Cavalcanti, Allesandro Manzoni ... like a 25 year-old teacher's pet. It was sickening. But then when he asked about Roman times in Italian, I couldn't understand a word he said. And even though he asked about the preminent writer from the Roman era, the man who wrote about the beginnings of Rome, the man who led my literary hero through the greatest poem ever created, I drew blank on what the heck he was saying. And then he wrote "Virgilio" on the board and suddenly everything he said made sense. I was a little embarrassed.

Today I was asked what I'm doing tonight. A simple question: "Che' cosa fai stasera?" My simple answer: "Stasera dormo." But then he asked: "Prima di dormi ..." and went off on various types of things I could be doing like eating, partying, etc. I wasn't paying attention. Instead I was using the delay to form "No, I woke up at 4 this morning to go to work." This normally would be "No, mi sono alzato a le quattro stamattina a andare a lavoro." Feeling the self-imposed pressure, I choked out something like "Mi alzo a la quattro." No. And I was corrected. It took me about five seconds to come up with the wrong answer.

You might be saying to yourself, "Nick, stop being so hard on yourself. You'll get it." But what if I don't? It took me like four or five years just to speak English. Well, to speak my own thoughts in English anyway. When I was little I exhibited echolalia. The story my mom always tells is when I would want a cookie, instead of saying, "Mom, can I have a cookie?" I would point to the counter (where the cookies were) and say, "Do you want a cookie?" in the same tone my mom would ask me. When I wasn't repeating I was (mostly) quiet. It took a speech therapist for me to finally speak correctly (and to listen better -- I still have to watch people's lips move in order to hear them 70% of the time). What if my stunted growth in Italian is due to childhood speech impediments?

Okay, maybe it's not that. I can only blame things on being part-autistic so many times before it becomes a crutch. But at least admit the possibility is still there.

I'm frustrated with how slow I'm learning. I can come up with the correct conjugations and the vocabulary, the nuts and bolts. I just can't seem to put it all together. It better come quick though. Or else Florence this summer will be very lonely.

being costanza.

2006-08-28T16:19:00.000-05:00

I have this wit and barbed sarcasm. They are weapons, the only ones I've ever been trained to use. My handling of these weapons is flawless, the delivery clean and sometimes staggered in effectiveness. They contain such sharp points the incisions themselves bear a sort of metaphysical nature, occasionally causing the victims to not only ponder the wound but the instrument itself. They are carefully crafted, tested. They are true.

Unfortunately, when a battle comes, they are slow to production.

And then I'm forced to use half-completed weapons or another form of combat, such as silence or self-deprecation.

Then, almost as a form of torture, these tools continue to roll off the production line well after the battle is over. What am I supposed to do with them now? Sit on these situationally-honed tools in the event I may employ them elsewhere? The chances of this are slim. No, these are not weapons for the future. These, dear friends, are disgraceful reminders of ineptitude.

Just like George.

Is It So Hard? - iPod todo list

2006-08-18T13:10:00.000-05:00

You would think with all the encouraged calandar and contact syncing that Apple (or anyone else for that matter) would develop software to create a todo list. Sure, you can just write a list in a TXT file and slap that on the ol' Mini but it removes the best part about a list. I want to see the items disappear. I want to do something and check it off. Instead I have to deal with a static page with no formatting. Exploration into the subject (far previous to this post) led me to the podsites but that doesn't help me with my lust for a checklist. I know I'm not helping out with the development (because I wouldn't know where to begin) but ...

... is it so hard?

cracking out on the past.

2006-08-12T10:04:00.000-05:00

Final Fantasy VII: Reunion Tracks

I'm sitting here listening to the orchestral version of "Aerith's Theme" from Final Fantasy VII, a rush of nostalgia encouraging me to wax fondly on the mid-nineties.

To be fair (and mostly this is for Katie who, whenever I even mention a video game, feels ashamed and wonders aloud how I ever fooled her into letting me see her naked) the reason why I have the FFVII soundtrack in the first place (because my CD copies from when I was 16 are nowhere to be found) is in order back up a video project I'm working on. Lately I've been working on a "reel" of sorts. Really it's just a series of vignettes I'm putting together using my JVC Everio. In any case, the opening is of me waking up for work at 4:00am set to the opening theme of FFVII (the part of the tune just before the bombing mission). I'm even working on the logo to include the Meteor part of the game's but to read "A Day for Nick." I'm pretty excited.

But this project also comes at a time I've started playing a restored copy of Final Fantasy Tactics, another game I played incessently when I was in my teens (a game I still play probably once a year -- where else can you find a game that features Jesus as the final boss?). Last time I was up at my parents', my brother Josh and I cleaned it off (it looked like it'd been used as a coaster for the last three or four years) and now I waste a lot of free time building characters.

Sure this is time probably better spent writing, editing, coding or even playing outside (World Cup 2010 is right around the corner afterall and I have to get in shape if I'm going to take America all the way) but, instead, a mere week before my schedule ceases to be my own with school starting on the 21st, I demand my Ramza Beoulve be the best. A work buddy of mine, Jamie, and I were discussing this on the train the other day (he's picked up playing FFVII) and he gave me the same justification I've been convincing myself with: this is how we relax. These game may seem like mindless musings from an industry bent on destroying our youth but, in all seriousness, the stories in these two games (and countless others) have a lot of depth and are compounded with the nostalgia of the first time we played them. Also, it could be a lot worse for us: there's a karaoke track for Sephiroth's theme "One-Winged Angel" on this CD.

passive-aggressive revenge.

2006-08-10T09:30:00.000-05:00

I hate notes. Well, I hate the kind of notes people leave when they have something to say, some small criticism or demand, and don't have the cajones to step up and say something to your face. Oh, sure, they'll tell you it's because they didn't know if they'd see you or that it's not a big deal once they're confronted. But that's nonsense.

My roommate is notorious (in my eyes) for this. She has notes everywhere asking everything from where here HEPA filter is for her vacuum to cleaning up the living room. And I know why: the confrontation makes her nervous, a detail I can assume since whenever she owns up and tries to ask people anything that may be responded to negatively, she speaks only in interogatives, a huge pet peeve of mine. Few small things can take me from placid to annoyed faster than ending non-question statements with an ascending pitch.

Here's the thing about the notes: I live with her. She's going to see me. And I know she just cleaned up the living room but I don't need a crudely-scrawled missive telling me to keep it clean. I'm going to do my best but there are laws of entropy. It will be messy again. And you know what else: it wouldn't have been so bad if she would have just told me in person with some confidence. "Hey, can you take your pizza boxes on your way out today?" In fact, I would have been apologetic. But now my ire is raised and I feel almost vengeful. I hope the place gets messy. In fact, I hope the whole loft gets messy just after all the paper and pens/markers/pencils/chalk/charcoal in the immediate area incinerate so that, when she has to tell me the place is a sty, she has to say something in person.

She'll probably still try to write it in blood on the wall or something.

Postscript: this post is not ironic.

News for Nick: 11 Jul 06

2006-07-11T11:51:00.000-05:00

Dr Bartha being pulled from his townhouse (How a Townhouse in N.Y. Went From Dream to Nightmare)

Mom Gets 8 Years for Giving Baby Methadone [Newsvine]
Fifa investigates Zidane red card [BBC Sport]
Other Related News:
- Revealed: The Remark that Unleashed Zidane's Fury [Newsvine]
- Materazzi Denies 'Terrorist' Insult [Newsvine]
- E l'incornata di Zizou diventa gioco (a Flash game) [via Best Week Ever Blog]
US detainees to get Geneva rights [BBC News]

Also: U-turn on Guantánamo rights [Guardian UK]

How a Townhouse in N.Y. Went From Dream to Nightmare [NY Times]
Hilary Rosen: Singing a New Song? [Wired]
US in $80m 'Cuba democracy' plan [BBC News]
Adam Carolla hangs up on Coulter [via Best Week Ever Blog]

ah, i feel it in my bung.

2006-07-11T10:31:00.000-05:00

For most of my cell phone using career I've been a loyal MetroPCS customer (there was a brief stint of Nextel at the precipice of their "walkie-talkie" age but not long enough to really matter). Sure, I couldn't really leave the Atlanta area lest I render my phone useless but unlimited minutes, unlimited long-distance and a flat-rate per month is a great deal. Besides, where am I going? I don't even have a car.

But my parents bought be an unlocked RAZR phone for my birthday, a phone I asked for since it was the most advanced phone Metro services. I walk into the service center Monday afternoon and ask them to switch over my service. They say no. "This isn't one of ours," he says. MetroPCS doesn't operate on SIM cards so my Unlocked Phone of Awesomeness is completely useless with my current carrier. Son of a ...

My options are few: (a) find some way to return my phone (which was purchased online) and buy a MetroPCS RAZR phone or (b) find a new carrier. The problem with (a) is that getting a MetroPCS phone sort of locks me into their service until I get a new phone. So, I think to myself, maybe it's time to become a big boy and get in on one of the larger carriers. Who knows? Maybe I'll go traveling about if I know I won't be stranded without a phone somewhere.

I'm checking out the major carriers now and, seriously, I don't know how you kids do it. I've been looking at T-Mobile, Cingular, Verizon and even All-Tel. Phone carriers in the United States are all about raping the customer. You lose minutes even when people call you? That's ridiculous. I mean, ISPs gave up the "per minute" ghost way early on. How can mobile phone companies still be doing this? Is it just that people don't know a better way, haven't been able to apply the theory of flat-rates to mobile phones, therefore allowing carriers to essentially hit them with bats until prizes fall out every month?

I might be making a little much of it since I'm really not used to having a limit on my phone service. Maybe 1000 "whenever" minutes/month for $49.99 is a good deal and I wouldn't know because I really have no idea how much I talk on the phone. Do I talk for 16 hours a month? Hard to say.

So I implore you, all ye hurt-bottoms of carrier abuse, what do I do? Where do I go? Should I just try option (a) and get over it, continue in my primarily Atlanta-only existence? Or should I just bite the pillow and branch out?

john williams should do my soundtrack.

2006-06-29T19:29:00.001-05:00

Spoiler Warning: What follows is possibly a spoiler for the movie Superman Returns. I say possibly because even EW all but gave it away in their recent article. In any case, don't read it if you don't want to know.

Like many dark-haired, blue-eyed boys in the world, I have a special affinity for Superman. The sheer impossibility of his defeat (an impossibility that has tested my limits for suspending disbelief throughout the years) is attractive, his iconic status incredible and, at least for me, his strength of character standing through test after test in a world that completely doesn't understand him pull us toward the Man of Steel. Sure he's a little more hokey than say the dark brooding of Batman, the mixed-blessing conflict in Spiderman and the overt outsider plot encasing all of the X-(Wo)Men. But he's Superman. He's the standard. You can go to the jungles, find a native and show him a picture of Superman and he'll show you some thatched footie pajamas with the big diamond-and-S. I still feel today that the best illustration of this was at the end of the Batman: Dark Knight series when Miller hinted at the people regarding Superman as a religious savior. He has that level of power.

Even with all of that, the new flick interested me in a new way. To preface, my opinion of the movie is that it was good but could have been better; Bryan Singer did great but the script needed some work and, as a co-worker pointed out, for a criminal mastermind, Lex Luthor's evil plot was pretty lame (Land grab? Really?). I'm still planning on catching it again, though, this time in IMAX.

The way the new movie intrigued me (even though it was a deep perversion of the Superman mythos) is through the kid. We can only assume that Lois told her baby's daddy what's up by Supes' Jor-El-ish speech to Jason late in the movie. Why that is interesting to me? Let's look at the similarities: (1) My dad has always been told he looks just like the late Christopher Reeve and I am my father's son, (2) my dad has lived the life only a man that can be reborn in multiple ages as the same person can accomplish, (3) I'm asthmatic and was a sickly child, and (4) I had a similar haircut when I was five-ish.

If the Man of Tomorrow can have a child then, clearly, I'm the heir to a superhero throne.

I will rock that cape.

what to search for when you're bored.

2006-06-25T18:17:00.000-05:00

My friend Josh was always being bestowed with the latest cutting edge Apple products by way of his obsessed father, a man we believed to be wired into the internet in his sleep. In fact, it was him that provided us with our first dose of the internet. It was 1994 in a community called eWorld. eWorld was a lot like AOL, except more spatially-based (it porported itself to be a planet with locations). Josh and I hopped onto a very new Yahoo! and watched the cursor blink in the search box.

"Well," he asked. "What do we look up?"

The world was at our fingertips. Though burgeoning, the internet was bursting with information waiting to be taken in. But my thirteen year-old mind pumped out the first thing that came.

"Boobiestette."

Yes. The first search term we looked up on the internet, a medium that would become my livelihood, was boobies.

So now, when I sit bored, watching the cursor blink in the Google search box, I think of that day. I relive it, the results being far more in numbers than the original run. But now I know better, about life and how the web works, and have to laugh.

Next time you're bored on the internet, look it up. Check out the search results and then think of all the people, in their content or in their keywords when developing pages, that have to seriously type the word "boobies."

reprise talent evaluation.

2006-06-15T20:48:00.000-05:00

B-list (or lower) celebrity panel of judges. Quirky (and sometimes abrasive) host/MC. The public being manipulated into believing they truly want to be on television only to have 85-90% of them become totally humiliated. Is it just me or does NBC's new show America's Got Talent look like a high-cost production of NBC's classic The Gong Show? The only major differences I can see: bigger audience, creatively lit in Vegas-style, and a strange Cooperation of the Gong (the three judges each have a buzzer -- the "talent" is excused after all three judges sound their buzzers).

Although David Hasselhoff does say in the commercial, "KITT, get me out of here." Points are awarded to the goofy celebrity for recognizing his own awesomeness.

half a pint for the world.

2006-06-08T21:34:00.000-05:00

I was infamously bad at soccer when I was a little. There were many times when I would just sit on the ball until another, larger kid (typically a girl) would come along and kick it from under me. The one time I was on my game I was really off: I dribbled down field and scored for the other team.

Redemption came in middle school when I found a position I was good at: goaltender (though now I recollect being relegated to the role since I was terrible at everything else). PE brought out my talents and they were proven during my 7th grade school Olympics. My team took 2nd place in soccer (after some dirty officiating) but I had a lot of blocked kicks, including a couple that elicited "oohs" from the stands. It was the first time (among few) my athletic skill was impressive to others.

After that, though, soccer fell by the wayside. My mom didn't want me to play sports because she was afraid I'd "hurt my brain" and, though I knew I'd be a great American football player, I was comfortable just watching the Packers on TV. Soccer was probably not the sport for me anyway with my ass-mar.

It's always intrigued me, though. I'll get sucked into any game on television but soccer has a certain pull on me. I could watch it for hours. Basketball and baseball bore me but soccer (and American football) are deeply captivating. If nothing else, soccer attracts me because it's something the whole world is into (you know, except us).

With that said, 2006 is a World Cup year. And I'm heeding the advice a person I don't even know expressed to a certain Heartbreaker: "Get into it!" I read the BBC World Cup form guide, Wikipedia'd World Cup 2006 and have been all over the official site and the ESPN soccernet page. I'm no expert but I know enough to enjoy it (I think). Maybe it'll be me and a bunch of hooligans at 9am trying to watch England v Paraguay. Argentina v Côte d'Ivoire (aka Ivory Coast) looks interesting. And, of course, there's Italy v US. I'm excited.

Get into it!

Links:

FIFA World Cup 2006 Official Site (powered by Yahoo!)
Wikipedia entry for World Cup 2006
BBC Sport World Cup Form Guide
ABC Sports/ESPN/ESPN2 American Television Coverage

Also of Note:

I never finished Fever Pitch because I found it boring. It's the only Nick Hornby book I bought and haven't immediately read cover to cover. I did, however, see the Americanized (and pathetic) remake.
The US team's logo is stupid.

the pep-talk that led to a new messiah.

2006-06-02T22:50:00.000-05:00

When Vince Vaughn, Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie wrapped on Mr and Mrs Smith, I wonder how they settled the partner swap (probably in a conference with no Jennifer Aniston invite). I think it all started with one pep talk.

Note: I did this in two columns so that it would (hopefully) take up less vertical space. If it becomes problematic I'll snip it up into sections or link it to my site.

On the set of Mr. and Mrs. Smith, Vince Vaughn is sampling a little of everything at the craft services table as Brad Pitt walks up.

Brad: Hey, man.

Vince: Hey. Great last scene, by the way. I really felt it.

Brad: Thanks, brother.

Vince: Yeah. [shovels more food into his mouth]

Brad: Hey, take it easy there.

Vince: Huh?

Brad: What’d this food ever do to you?

Vince: I know, I’m just so hungry all of a sudden. I don’t even know why.

Brad: Well, try not to pork down too much. There are starving kids somewhere in Africa you know.

They laugh. Vaughn keeps shoveling food in his mouth.

Brad: Besides, you don’t want to end up like your fat friend Favreau.

Vince: [with mouth full] Too far, Brad. Jon is a very dear and close friend. He deserves all the food he gets.

Brad: All right, all right. Sorry, man.

Vince: If he wants to blow up and look like a Goodyear blimp, who am I to say no?

Brad: Fair enough.

Vince: Besides, I’ve always been blessed with a fast metabolism so I don’t have to worry.

Brad: [turning to the food] All right, so what do we have here?

Vince: A little bit of everything. It’s all pretty fantastic.

Brad: Cool. [picks up a plate]

There’s a brief pause. As Vince continues to nibble, Brad glances over at his supporting star then shakes his head. Finally, he gets the courage to speak.

Brad: Hey, I gotta tell you something. You have to tell me if I’m crazy or not.

Vince: Sure thing, pal. Shoot.

Brad: [leans in; quietly] I think I’m in with Jolie.

Vince: Excuse me?

Brad: I think … I, um …

Vince: You could hit that?

Brad: Maybe.

Vince: Angelina Jolie?

Brad: Yes, Angelina Jolie.

Vince: You think you could tag Angelina Jolie?

Brad: I wouldn’t put it like that but …

Vince: Well, I’m not totally surprised. I mean, you’re fucking Brad Pitt, right?

Brad: Right. But I’m not sure. It’s just speculation for right now.

Vince: Oh, right, right.

Brad: Nothing assured. But I think, if I wanted to, I could … you know …

Vince: Hit that shit?

Brad: Right.

Vince: What makes you say that?

Brad: I just get this vibe from her or something.

Vince: [looks up] Shit, here she comes.

Brad: Act cool, man.

Vince: [at normal level again] Hey, Angelina.

Angelina Jolie walks up to the table and pours herself some tea. Vince is all smiles while Brad grins meekly and nods.

Angelina: Hey, Vince.

Vince: Great scene, by the way. I really felt it.

Angelina: Thank you, Vince. You were so funny in your last scene I almost popped a vein trying not to laugh.

Vince: Thank you. That really means a lot to me.

Angelina: No problem. See you around.

Vince: Okay. [does a small wave with his free, not-holding-food hand]

Angelina: [subtly looks Brad up and down then smiles] Bye, Brad.

Brad: See you later, Angelina.

Angelina walks away.

Brad: Jesus, did you feel that?

Vince: Did I feel it? I think I may need a cigarette after that. Maybe even change my pants.

Brad: So I’m not totally crazy then?

Vince: Crazy? No, no, no, no. Did you feel that vibe coming off of her? She wants you, my friend.

Brad: Really?

Vince: She’s making the call. She’s just waiting for you to pick up. Getting the voicemail and calling back again.

Brad: Should I pick up?

Vince: Should you pick up? Are you simple? Of course, you pick it up. Do you know how hot that would be? Not only is she incredibly hot …

Brad: Incredibly hot.

Vince: I mean, there’s no question. Those lips, those tits. That tight little ham she calls an ass. Package deal.

Brad: Way hot.

Vince: Also, she’s a little crazy.

Brad: Yeah.

Vince: Completely unpredictable. I can’t even fathom a guess at what sex with her would be like. Whips, chains, outfits, possibly animals.

Brad: You think animals?

Vince: Well, maybe not animals. Or maybe animals. It’s Angelina Jolie: who the fuck knows?

Brad: Billy Bob Thornton knows.

Vince: Yeah, Slingblade hit that.

Brad: See, that makes me question the whole thing.

Vince: Why because Billy Bob “I fucked Halle Berry” Thornton was up in there?

next column

Brad: He didn’t fuck Halle Berry.

Vince: Please. Did you see Monster’s Ball? You think after that scene that they just put on their robes and said good night? Be realistic.

Brad: Anyway, we’re both ignoring the elephant in the room here.

Vince: What’s that? That Jolie would want to wear your blood around her neck, too? Because, I gotta tell you, I think that’s pretty fucking hot. I know it’s weird but it’s a little hot, too, you have to admit.

Brad: No, no. I mean I have a wife.

Vince: Oh right.

There’s another small pause.

Vince: But it’s fucking Angelina Jolie, though.

Brad: [sighs then laughs] I know.

Vince: Listen, you have to do this.

Brad: No, no, I can’t. It’s flattering but I can’t.

Vince: It’s flattering?

Brad: Yeah, it’s flattering that someone like her would be interested in me but it’s just not the right time.

Vince: Yeah, and it’s an honor just to be nominated. Horse shit, Brad. This isn’t flattering. This is divine providence.

Brad: [laughing] Divine providence?

Vince: Who else gets this opportunity, to fuck the hottest, sexiest, craziest girl in Hollywood? Shit, she’s so hot straight chicks would fall all over each other just to go to girlytown with her. I mean, this isn’t one of those party sluts spreading her legs for anyone with a trust fund or losing her virginity to someone who plays a foreign guy in Wisconsin on TV. This is Angelina Jolie.

Brad: Fucking Angelina Jolie.

Vince: Fucking A right it’s Angelina Jolie. And only a man in your position, of your caliber, of your pedigree …

Brad: Pedigree?

Vince: That’s right: pedigree. Your pedigree of looks, smarts and experience can land a girl like that. The planets are aligning, my friend, and I’m no Nostradamus but I know you only got one shot at this.

Brad: You think so?

Vince: Listen, here’s what we’re going to do …

Brad: Oh, no.

Vince: Hear me out, Bradley. The fact that you’re entertaining this at all means you’ve forsaken the wife at the prospect of Angelina Jolie.

Brad: Now, I wouldn’t say …

Vince: It’s okay, Brad. No one expects you to be Superman. And even if you were, all men have a weakness for hot sex and Angelina Jolie is like a fucking planet of kryptonite. I’m even going to do you one better: I salute you.

Brad: You salute me?

Vince: I salute you for doing your duty, for making this kind of sacrifice to chase the dream. The Dream, Brad. So here’s what we’re going to do.

Brad: [smiling, not taking Vince too seriously] What’s the plan, brother?

Vince: You raid Lara Croft’s tombs over there and I’m going to be your wingman.

Brad: My wingman?

Vince: I’ll run interference with the wife. Hopefully she won’t find out but, God forbid that she does, in that unfortunate instance, I’ll be there to help console her. Don’t worry, Daddy will take the hit for the team.

Brad: Some hit.

Vince: The point is while Jolie’s out being your bone collector, old Rachel can rest her head on someone’s shoulder. Takes the heat off you.

Brad: Wait, did you just call her Rachel?

Vince: Did I say Rachel? I meant Jennifer. Jennifer.

Brad: You totally have a crush on her Friends character.

Vince: No, I do not. That’s preposterous. That’s almost offensive.

Brad: Oh my God. You have a crush on Rachel.

Vince: All right, so what? So I sometimes disgrace myself in the shower to her in the green dress going [with “bunny quotes”] “commando.” Does that make me a bad person?

Brad: [laughing] No, I get it.

Vince: That’s right you get it. Now you get that. [points to Angelina]

Brad: I still don’t know.

Vince: [turning Brad toward him] Brad, if you don’t stick that I will never forgive myself. I’ll consider myself a failure for the rest of my life.

Brad: It’s that bad?

Vince: For all us slobs out there eating Pop-Tarts at the craft services table or in our lonely apartments plastered with posters of Lara Croft you have to do this. Do it for us. Do it for us, Brad. [takes a bite out of a strawberry Pop-Tart]

Brad: I’ll take it under consideration.

Vince: That’s all I can ask.

an open letter to the atlanta summer.

2006-05-27T18:32:00.000-05:00

Dear Atlantan Season of Summer,

First, I would like to say welcome. Your official start date isn't until June 21st but here you are, more than a month early. I like your work ethic and your moxy. Don't let human-created dates hold you back; a task is at hand and you are the abstract conceptual entity for the job. I commend you.

But what exactly is that task? We'll start with some positives.

One, I would rather be warm then cold and you bring the heat, my friend.

Two, you usher in the month of my birth. July (7th for interested parties) is special to me and I always hold a place in my heart for the warmest of months. Not only am I celebrated but I also get lots of presents. Even if I hated the hot I would still love the summer by positive reinforcement.

Three, you're a good excuse to eat ice cream all the time.

But let's cut to the chase: you're out to kill me, aren't you? You know I walk everywhere and that the nearest train stations are at least twenty minutes away. Why do you have to turn up the heat? Not only am I at the threat of heat exhaustion/stroke, I am also at risk for horrible bacne, one of the most dreaded of acnes, from sweating into my shirt and trapping it between my back and backpack. Zits on my back! How am I going to Oxy those? Ask for assistance? Gross, dude!

Sweat just pours off my dark head of hair and onto my headphones, inevitably in my ears. It's like an infection waiting to happen. I constantly look a mess (from the sweat) so I have to bring a dopp kit of toiletries, as well as a change of clothes, everywhere I go so I can look like a halfway normal person when I arrive somewhere. My ice-cold water bottle turns warm in minutes, I get stinky, wet socks, and horrible, horrible farmer's tan! Even my tan-well, near-never-burn skin is turned against me!

Spring is so nice to us and you cut it off, Summer. It's like you're a little over-anxious and somewhat high-strung, possibly a bit of a Seasonal Stage hog. And then when you start to perform you overdo it: the blistering heat, the choking humidity and what feels like an unfiltered sun bouncing off the white sidewalks and burning my eyes. What is with the punishment? I know I'm supposed to live in Hotlanta and people tell me, "You've lived here for, like, 12 years. Aren't you used to this by now?" But would it be so hard for us to be just "Mild-yet-Comfortablanta" for a summer? Are you over-compensating?

In summation, Summer -- I always look forward to you in the Winter, begging for you to come. But when you get here I start to realize what I really wanted was Spring or even Autumn. Just, please, cut me a break here, ASS.

biscuits will not fly quite so high.

2006-05-21T18:36:00.000-05:00

My stubborn fantasy for when I eventually move out of Atlanta to pursue a career I have not yet quite begun to pursue yet is my last stop in city to be at The Flying Biscuit. I was to pull the Budget/U-Haul/Ryder truck over on Clifton, snag a dozen biscuits for the road and pick up a t-shirt from one of my favorite eateries. How cool would I be sporting a shirt that only "locals" would truly understand? Part of that dream faded when Katie brought me home a free Biscuit t-shirt she got at work (and kept because it's a freaking cool shirt). But news today brought a tragic end to my future cool points.

I was on the train today when I saw and read (the subtitles for) a story most disturbing: The Flying Biscuit was bought out by Raving Brands. First the term "bought out" put fear into my heart and then "Raving Brands" nearly stopped it completely. If you're not sure who they are, the best way this collection of restaurant "concepts" can be described is as the folks who brought you "Welcome to Moe's!"

Yes, the people that own Moe's just bought out one of your favorite breakfast places. Not only did they buy it, they're going to franchise it. Everywhere.

Raving Brands also owns Planet Smoothie, Doc Green's Gourmet Salads, Shane's Rib Shack and three other restaurant concepts. It said yesterday it plans on opening 50 Flying Biscuit stores in 2007 and another 50 in 2008. The first franchises will be in metro Atlanta.

And so, I feel, an Atlanta institution is doomed to be ruined.

Upon further reflection of this during the day, I realized something: most of the Raving Brands are mediocre at best. I mean, I can do Moe's but I almost always would rather go to Willy's. I don't mind Mama Fu's but I'd just be thinking about Fried Chicken Rice Bowl at Noodle or even a meal at Doc Chey's. And Planet Smoothie? Let's just say I'd rather get a milkshake.

And then, on top of that, Biscuits everywhere? It's an interesting concept to have breakfast places in as many places as there are Moe's(es?) but can the eatery stay the same? None of the current Raving Brands have servers and one of the things that makes the Candler Park store is its neighborhood quality. It's in a freaking house (a gutted one but, in any case, it's very homey). Can that be replicated in fifty more locations? Or am I going to have to order my moon-dusted potatoes from a counter? All this is very disconcerting.

So, though it may be premature, I say "bon voyagebuon viaggio" to The Flying Biscuit. I still have the cookbook so the memories will last always, even when I eventually say, "The Biscuit's okay but I'd rather go to Ria'sLa Biscuit e' buona ma preferirei andare a Ria's. instead."

- - - - - - - - -

A small note about the WSBTV.com article: my favorite part is the last paragraph:

The original Flying Biscuit, opened in 1993, is in Atlanta's Candler Park neighborhood, not far from the slightly Bohemian Little Five Points. A second restaurant is near Piedmont Park.

L5P is "slightly" Bohemian, downgrading from "full-on" Bohemian since it's now "slightly" commercial and "slightly" the hang-out for "cool" suburban kids. Also I like how the original Candler Park location gets most of the mention between the locations while Piedmont Park's inferior nature is exemplified in words by only a blurb telling of its existence. I cry for you, Biscuit!

pity, music. pity.

2006-05-19T17:11:00.000-05:00

My friend Ian and I have never really seen eye to eye on a lot of music. We mesh more on the electronic side of things but, as far as rock goes, he pretty much hates everything I like. Anything with a melodic voice is immediately tagged with an "emo is crap," whether the music is "emo" or not.

He's up here this weekend and, on a trek to Alpharetta, we discussed (separately) the Pantera Behind the Music (amazing if you haven't seen it) and this quality of Ian not liking most of the bands I listen to nowadays. I used to listen to a lot of harder rock music. I sing Marilyn Manson in the shower (just today growling "Light a candle for the sinners; set the world on fire") but occasionally move into lighter territory at other times (later in the shower: "if you have just one // let me be that love // if you have lots of others // please let me, please let me be one" -- onelinedrawing). What happened? What changed? Was it me?

Rewind to 1997. I was at the height of being a "Mansonite," wearing the panty-hose on the arms, black jeans and band shirts even in the summer and lipsynching to the likes of Pantera, Zombie and Korn (yes, sadly, Korn -- the guys that did the "Word Up" cover). I took glee in telling people I listened to bands with names like Life of Agony and defended Manson's art. I lived and breathed hard rock (as much as I could since I lacked the musical talent to play the sound, or any sound that wasn't noise). To me there was intelligent, rational reason to listen to some of these bands. It was destiny and I felt I was in the scene forever.

So why am I here? Why do I now listen to Doves, Elbow and Snow Patrol? Why is the only band from that bygone era I still purchase CDs for Deftones?

Some of it may be that I've gotten older and don't need to thrash around as much. But I still crank Far Beyond Driven ... a lot. White/Rob Zombie are still in heavy rotation on my iPod. "Bloody Cape" is one of my favorite songs from the newer Deftones record. It can't be that my tastes have changed too dramatically. I find a lot of old Korn to be unlistenable, particularly Issues but even on their "breakout" Follow the Leader but a lot of the music still holds up. Only thing I can determine is that music is lacking.

Yeah, I'm one of those 23634764 guys that says music today sucks"la musica oggigiorno fa schifo".

Nowadays the "metal" is simplistic (unless you tread into the more underground subgenres of the scene where I fear the bands are slightly more "glamorous" with their stage shows), "rock bands" are more like "pop bands" (in fact, boy bands are using guitar licks to give their sounds credibility) and punk died in the early 1980s. It's true. We can discuss it later.

So why wouldn't I turn to the only genres still making music that says something? Yes, sometimes the lead singer for Death Cab for Cutie sounds like a girl, but the lyrics are great and the sound is tight (also, what's wrong with sounding like a girl?). Jonah Matranga may whine but his music and songwriting are exploratory. Sigur Rós and Mogwai are just powerful. It may be a little lighter but the hair on the back of my neck stands up just the same.

And, when all else fails, we can all start learning how to play the spoons.

why be original?

2006-05-14T19:45:00.001-05:00

Back in the day I made a post detailing my disappointment in others usurping my good name. The mugs of all the folks with any semblance of an online personality was upsetting, given that clearly I am the best "Nick Campbell." But Google searches for all my former online personae have become just as disappointing, particularly the "thatkidnick" monicker:

But also for ku.sama and lucian9 (but not poor, sad lifestrem1). Maybe it's punishment for trying to create cute names for myself, that my online identities get unintentionally kidnapped by lamer people. Why even try to be original anymore (with nicknames)? Maybe I should just stick to "Nick Campbell."

And to any other "thatkidnicks" or "lucian9s" that may be reading: I know the feeling is mutual.

the lord, strapped to a car.

2006-05-13T22:59:00.000-05:00

I-85 Southbound, Shallowford Road area -- 13 May 06

my life as puzzle mechanics.

2006-05-12T16:21:00.000-05:00

I'm a recovering puzzle addict. A few years ago I got hooked on a game called Yohoho! Puzzle Pirates. You become a sea-farer in an MMORPG world full of items to buy, homes to build, boats to sail and plenty of people to swashbuckle with. The twist to the game is that all the tasks, whether it be navigating a ship or swordfighting with a rival crew, are puzzle-based. Bailing water is a lot like Tetris Attack, fixing the ship floor is similar to to tangrams, and swordfighting is all kinds of Puzzle Fighter. For hours I would "sail" around this "ocean," looking for "booty" (currency taking the form of "pieces of eight"), messaging back and forth with other players (including my friend, Ian, who was just in the next room), building reputations, gaining ranks ... it was a ridiculous affair. It took me a while to ween off it. I didn't actually fully stop being involved until after the beta period was over and they started charging for the game. And even then a $5 buy-in was tempting. It was seriously one of the most addictive things I've ever played. Even with the constant terrorizing I received from Joey and Erica about being a "puzzle pirate," I played on. I can't even in good conscious give you the link to this site lest you fall prey to the devestating effect this game can have. Ah, heck, here you go.

From sudoku to The Da Vinci Code Quest on Google and all kinds of other stuff not alphabetically bookended, puzzles just deeply appeal to me. So it was only natural that once I started to watch Lost that I would attempt to solve all the clues the show's creative/marketing team leaves.

I started to watch Lost after learning Darren Aronofsky would be directing one of the last episodes of season two. Now that he's dropped out, I'm still hooked watching (I can stop any time I want). Katie on the other hand ... totally snagged.

Intriguing on a different level is the extra non-broadcast material from the show. There are sites and even books involving the people on the doomed Oceanic Flight 815 and the island itself. I don't know why I'm explaining this to you. Lost dominates the numbers on Wednesday nights. You know what I'm talking about.

So I've been stuck lately trying to uncover all the hidden secrets of the sites such as inputting the "numbers" into subLYMONal.com to get the secret code but not knowing where on the Hanso Foundation site to input it since the page I'm led to has a blank but no submit button (I'm thinking this may be a Firefox/Mac problem ... but maybe not; Win/IE users: do you have problems?). Also I'm trying to figure out why the Dharma Initiative site reads "17 -- diapause." This, of course, has led me to a brief (and almost definitely unrrelated) investigation of the Yucca moth, who has a diapause of 16 to 17 years. I know the diapause is the holdup of the actual initiative (I think) but it is an interesting coincidence. Oh, and, of course, the manuscript Sawyer was reading that Jack tossed in the fire to get the guns back, Bad Twin, is now a published novel you can find at any bookstore. It's written by Gary Troup (a nice anagram for "purgatory").

Avast! There be puzzles about!

we got a winner.

2006-05-04T20:50:00.000-05:00

(via BestWeekEver Blog)

This is a decent mash up of Toy Story 2 and Requiem for a Dream. If you can't point it out who's who (and maybe I can because I've seen Requiem A LOT):

Woody :: Harry (Jared Leto)
Buzz Lightyear :: Tyrone (Marlon Wayans)
Jessie :: Marion (Jennifer Connelly)
Bo Peep :: Sara (Ellen Burstyn)
Zurg :: Big Tim (Keith David)

But the real question is ... does this mean Jessie and Barbie are going to go "ass to ass?"