Why, Barack, why?

You're just a junior senator frol Illinois, barely wet behind the ears
nationally and unknown internationally.
Yet today you announce intent to explore running for the Big Gig.
My hope is that this is mainly to give you a real national stage, to
secure some name recognition for the next time around. Or the time
after that.
So please, just jump in the small puddle and get your feet wet. Splash
around on the national stage. Then get out, and let the folks whose
experience is not lacking fight for your support.

Perhaps the stupidist thing ever

I don't know what's worse: that this thing exists, or that people are actually donating money to get it built.

A creation museum of history, where dinasours and humans co-exist happily, and Noah loads dinasours onto the ark. Two by two, I suppose.

PETERSBURG, Kentucky (Reuters) - Ken Ham's sprawling creation museum isn't even open yet, but an expansion is already underway in the state-of-the art lobby, where grunting dinosaurs and animatronic humans coexist in a Biblical paradise.

And the fact that it's in Kentucky is just the icing on the cake.

At this moment in my life I'm not exactly sure WHAT I believe in, but I can tell you that things like this don't help any christian beliefs that I might have. You can believe all of the old-earthers, and the nay sayers against evolution, but as far as I'm concerned the age of the Earth is a scientific fact, as is evolution.
I can easily believe that an old earth and evolution and a Christian God can co-exist. But I find it entirely unbelievable, even foolish, to think that the chronology as put forth in the Bible is anything but allegorical. It certainly isn't factual.

A Walk in the Woods

It's been since before I can remember that a book made me laugh out loud in public. This is a book you want to be careful with. Read it over lunch at your own peril. There are laugh-out-loud, snort hot & sour soup out your nose moments.
And if you've never snorted Hot&Sour soup out your nose, my friends, let me tell you: your sinuses will never be so clear again.
After returning from a 20-year stay in Europe, Bill Bryson decides to rediscover America and hike the Appalachian trail. In searching for companions willing to walk with him, he gets only one response: Stephen Katz, and old friend whom Bryson hasn't spoken to in 25 years.
What ensues is part travelogue, part personal discovery, part history of the Appalachian Trail and it's surroundings. To say that they meet 'colorful characters' upon the way is the definition of understatement. I will never be able to hear the question "What's your sign" again without laughing. They meet inept boy scouts, too-talkative females, and the endlessly lost Chicken John. The section of the book where Katz tries to pick up a married woman at a laundromat along the way is worth the price of admission by itself.
We learn much about the trail and it's history, and how it managed to survive in spite of Bureaucracy's best efforts to screw it up. Short insights into towns and stops along the way prove to be entertaining and integrated, and add well to the whole.
Those who are looking for a pure hiking and travel story may be a bit put off by the history and the enviromental bend of some of the passages, but I found them important. I learned enough about the Forest Service to make me view it with renewed skepticism.
You may be wondering why there's a bear on the cover of the book. Bryson tells us much about bears, and his fear of them, but whether or not he evers encounters one is up to you to decide.
I seek forgiveness for purchasing this book at Wal-Mart. I was there, and it was there, and I was out of reading material at the time. I could have got it from BookMooch, I'm sure. Or better yet, from my local used bookstore. But something about Wal-Mart (which is the seventh level of Hell, by the way) induces you to buy if you go in the door. I think it's pheromones.
A Walk in the Woods is highly recommended.

Boycott?

Here's a site (and a sight) I never thought I'd see:

http://www.boycottnovell.com

Seems like many of the open source folks aren't happy with the Novell / Microsoft deal.

Superman Returns

I finally got to sit down and see "Superman Returns" over the holiday. I was entirely geeked in the theatres when the preview would play. Just hearing Brando's voice over and the hint of the John Williams score literally brought tears to my eyes. I couldn't wait for the movie, but somehow ended up missing it when it hit the theatres around here. I think I missed it at my theatre of choice, and didn't want to see it in one of the local crackerbox theatres.
So anyway I stayed up far too late with #3 son and watched it on DVD. We had mistakenly picked up the full screen version from the store, but that just gives me a reason to watch it again.
First, casting is spot-on, except for Perry White. Langella is fine in the role, but he's NOT Perry. He's to laid back, too authoritative. Langella commands by respect and position: Perry White barks and shouts. I picture Perry chewing Tums and Exedrin like candy. Langella's Perry White is too smooth.
Superman has been gone for five years, going back to the star system that Krypton was in. We don't get to see any of this. I guess we'll have to wait for the extended edition DVD.
The first Clark moment brought me back to Reeve, as did many moments in the film. I almost think the Routh is playing the Reeve version of Clark, but I think that is only because Reeve did it so well.
There are several moments of homage to the Reeve Superman movies that I found entirely appropriate and fitting. Superman's lines about flying, and Luthor's lines about land show up again, and they work again on many levels.
Spacey as Lex Luthor is brilliant. His dialogue is the best of the movie, and the best of any Superman movie. In Superman Returns we get to see the true evil that exists within as he and his cronies beat Superman nearly to death, and Luthor stabs him brutally with a Kryptonite knife, breaking it off in his back. It's truly painfull and uncomfortable to watch. Kevin Spacey is one of my favorite actors (yes I liked K-PAX), and he is well used here.
But really, at some point, you think Superman would realize that Lex has some Kryptonite on his, somewhere, wouldn't you? Just once.
And now the kid. Lois has a kid, and Luthor brings up the question of who the father might be. That question didn't enter my mind until Luthor said it, and it was a nice moment. But a moment was all it was. I spent the rest of the movie waiting for him to do something else, and nothing.
The main thing this movie did wrong for me was break-up Superman and Lois. Did she she was pregnant before she married? How long has she known the kid is Supe's? Did she know before we did? The movie helps us think not, but can't say for sure. Extended edition again?
Now they have a son between them and are doomed to remain apart, unless husband suddenly kicks off, which would seem far too convienent.
Superman Returns is a good movie, but I can't say it was great. It's missing a sense of fun, a sense of whimsy, a sense of 'yes we know this is just a comic book on the big screen' that inhabited the Reeve movies. The two goods ones, anyway.
This movie is important to me in that it marks the LAST time I'll let a big summer movie get away before I see it on the big screen, in a big dark room with a bunch of other people. I get the feeling I would have like the movie more in that setting, and I'm sorry I missed it there.

Road Trip

Today I took the 5 1/2 hour drive to Madison, WI with an old friend. I first met David Clark in April of 2004 (I think it was '04... man, does that suddenly seem like a long time ago). His unique blend of song, story, and Americana captured my attention the night I saw him perform.
Although I'm not sure the term is accurate, I thought of him them as a Renaissance American and Americana preacher. His love and deep respect of his roots, his country, and his God was suffused in every note he played, every word he read. That night his guitar playing was transcendent. It was the first time in a long time I'd seen a real honest to goodness performer, someone who was passionate about his work and not sold out to popular culture, who was not afraid to stand alone on a stage with a guitar and a microphone and tell you what he thinks, what he feels, what he believes.
His first trip around the country was in an old green pickup that I would not trust across town. His second and third were in a bus he'd converted himself. While it was a great improvement over the truck, it was no $300,000 motor coach.
But it got the job done. He called it The Blessed Donkey. His fans donated money to help him purchase and convert it.
So David and I struck up a friendship on his next run through town, as some friends and I tried to promote his visit and get him other bookings in the area. His influence helped convince my Dad, I think, to come out of retirement and dust off his guitars and start to play again. I grew up listening to Dad play, and now I have a CD of him playing some of his favorite tunes. I've heard all of them a hundred times or more before, but what a treasure this CD is.
Last night I took most of David's CD's and copied the MP3's out to my player, and I drove the rural highways of Illinois and Wisconsin, listening to David's unique blend of Uncle Remus, original songs, and acoustic guitar. I have seldom had a more pleasant journey. I keep coming back to Mr. Eagle's Message, and the different things it means to me every time I listen to it.
David has recently stopped touring full time to make some real money. Americans are reluctant to get their fat asses off of couches and out of living rooms for entertainment that might make them think, that doesn't feature blood or boobs.
It is our loss.
If you can listen to this , or this, and somehow not want to hear more, then I feel for you. If you DO want to hear more, stop by David's web site and listen to some clips, better yet buy one of his CD's.

All of this fuss...

...over a movie with no cast, no script, no budget, no production date.
Peter Jackson posted a letter on a website saying that NewLine had passed on him as director of The Hobbit, siting reasons of timing. To complicate matters, Jackson is suing New Line over profits from The Fellowship of the Rings. Apparently, Mr. Jackson wants to make sure that there were enough zeros at the end of his big paycheck for that movie. Given that the LOTR trilogy grossed in the three billions of dollars, I assume he's not hurting. Not scratching to try and get the kids to the dentist, or pay the past-due hospital bills.
Do you sense a lack of sympathy?
Certainly, Jackson is due whatever his contract calls for, but his demand for NewLine to submit to an audit is just Never. Going. To. Happen. Accounting in the film industry is an enigma wrapped in a mystery wrapped in a conundrum, and they don't want to reveal the charlatan behind that curtain.
Having said all of that, I doubt I would see a Hobbit remake that wasn't directed by Jackson, and didn't include at least Andy Serkis as Gollum and Ian Mckellen as Gandalf. The LOTR movies were more than mere cinema, they were events of the first caliber. My top five movies of all time would include all three. I am to this day astounded at the technological leaps that were taken in those movies, the breathtaking battle scenes. The moment when the Rohirrim swarmed into Sauron's army at Minis Tirith is perhaps my top movie moment, ever. I nearly came up out of my seat with excitement.
The Hobbit is not nearly the story that LOTR is. It's mainly a series of adventures on the way to retrieve some treasure and kill a dragon. Individually, the scenes make good bedtime reading for the kids. When Bilbo first meets Gollum, or first encounters Smaug, or gets caught by the trolls... my kids love to hear them. The book as a whole, however, is lacking in depth.
I've been looking forward to a new attempt at The Hobbit. There has been at least one animated attempt that fell flat. I'll be thrilled again if the time comes to visit Middle Earth with Peter Jackson as our guide.