Saturday, December 20, 2008

Classic Survivor

It's been a week, but that doesn't change the fact that I am all about the 'Congratulations Bob!' Sole Survivor, and last man standing from 'Survivor: Gabon' (pronounced Ga-bone, or ga-BONE!!!, Gaaa-bOOOOOOne - give it a go, it's the most fun I've had with a Survivor title so far). Bob, the 57 year-old physics teacher grabbed both the million dollar grand prize and the $100,000 Fan Favourite title, becoming the first Survivor Castaway to earn himself enough votes from both his castaway peers and the die-hard fans to win it all, twice.



When asked where he got the items used to make the fake Hidden Immunity Idol, Bob said 'I take stuff'.






Need a recap. Man, this was a great season, you should be watching this stuff. Commit People, Commit:

The guy deserved it. 'Bob, the 57 year-old physics teacher'; this is how survivors are labelled, Name, Age, Profession. But Bob is so much more than just 'the old guy' or the 'crazy physics lab-coat'... Bob is the old-guy-crazy-physics-lab-coat who does it all. A genuinely nice, caring guy, who built strong friendships and managed to fly-under-the-radar while winning challenge after challenge, Bob was not just a provider at camp he was a camp architect. For many structuring a solid shelter would be enough, but Bob built his tribe a bench, a cooking station, and a sun-dial giving them luxurious comfort that the other tribe couldn't even imagine (the other tribe was a huge disaster, and that was really fun to watch - I don't know what it is about seeing Mean People suffer, but I get a kick out of it). Outwit, Outplay, Outlast: how about creating not one but two fake Hidden Immunity Idols for a little of the Outwit. Both idols ended up fooling people right out of the game, leaving Bob to Outwit his way in and out of ruthless alliances as they fell apart around him. After chasing records for 'number of challenges' won in a row, Bob couldn't extend his streak in the last Immunity competition leaving him open for a seemly guaranteed exit. But once again, with a target covering his whole game, he grab a crucial vote, which forced a tie breaker, which he had anticipated earlier in the day and practiced for. He was able to build fire like Survivorman Meets Bear Grylls, he made it to the final three, and he won himself $1,000,000.


GC: I don't even know the guys real name. Who care though; he was elected by his tribe to be their leader, 18 hours later he quit the position, then he quit the game.




Crystal: Most unimpressive Gold Medal Olympian to ever have an 'Unathletic Montage' on national television.









Ace: Everyone was so convinced that this character was a snake, that the season's most burning question was whether his posh brittish accent was a fake.





Okay so it's not a great recap, but that's what you get for slacking. It's Survivor, it's entertaining, get off your high horse and watch already.

True this was a great season. It was full of twists and turns and I really never knew what was going on until another blind side / backstab / team shake up / double tribal vote-off had capped the episode leaving me wanting much, much more. In previous Survivors lines are drawn in the sand and alliances battle it out, tribes form within tribes, and eventually the underdog takes on the crew with the numbers. This Survivor was different, this Survivor was crazy. Every episode there was a new alliance of double-crossing tricksters, promising new lies, and trying to betray someone with a new version of the same deception. Physical threats were muscled out, strategists were outsmarted, Quitters quit, Good-vs-Evil turned to Evil-vs-Evil, the useless prevailed, the confident failed, under-achievers dominated, Mean was pushed around by Meaner, mistakes became the norm, Exile was an Oasis, and just when it seemed like all order in the universe was lost, Bob won.



Corinne: Don't be fooled by the picture (and stop looking at her... eyes), this is the nastiest individual to get airtime on cable. Pure Evil. And she loves everything about herself.





Sugar: Found the Hidden Immunity Idol, helped vote out the entire Jury, cried in every episode, was runner up in 'Favourite Survivor' votes after Bob, and mistakenly cared about people who wanted to feed her to the elephants. She's one of this fans favourites.


The one constant that didn't waiver with Gabon was the Jury. That bitter, irrational Jury. It's always the same; the second half of the season focuses on the development of lunatic-maniacs who sit and watch with bubbling envy as the people who threw them out of the game get closer and closer to glory. This time around, two Jury members actually stated that the final tribal council was only about revenge for them. Gory, ugly revenge. The other five voters did their worst impression of happy/caring/sane people as they unleashed a life-times worth of rage on the three finalists. At times the anger left them not only blind to the goal of the final tribal council (to figure out who they should back as overall champion of this crazy ride), but completely incoherent. There was nastiness going on here that fictional TV shows couldn't get away with. What is wrong with people? Everyone is the main character in their own little movie, expecting the world not to revolve around them, but to pick them up and carry them to a promised land where their movie is the Dark Knight or Titanic or the Departed. Their movie sucks. Their movie is the Truth About Charlie meets the never released not-funny-not-charming romantic comedy full of staged action, forced drama, and some not-cute-enough pet trying to hold the whole thing together, starring no-one, no-one, Steven Seagal, no-one, Gwyneth Paltow, and no-one. They're Bank Manager #2 whose only scene is buried on the Editing Room floor. Not everything is about you ('you' being the 7 psycho-lunatic-insane Me-Monsters who waited patiently for their turn to make absolute fools of themselves while 'wielding' the power to give someone $1,000,000). Take a break from yourself and look around, nobody likes you, because you are horrible people. Okay, there were a few exceptions, but the overall theme was 'the Jury hated life and all that was apart of it'. How is it possible that Susie almost won Survivor? This wasn't an underdog, this wasn't a 'fly-below-the-radar' player, this was an extra name at the start of the episode who made the tribe numbers equal. How did she make it to the final three you might ask, because she at no point even resembled the second-cousin-twice-removed of a 'Threat'. She barely registered a pulse on the show and the few times she found herself on camera she was either saying nothing or everything, which either way ended up being a whole lot of nothing. One of the final episodes had her rambling on about not knowing what was going on, because no one had told her what to do. Her big appeal to the Jury during the final Tribal was that she 'tried', and some such nonesense about teaching people to try, or try harder, or be one with trying to try not to give up but try something, something else, blah, blah, blah, snore, blah. In fact that was her only appeal. And still, these idiots who wanted more 'Me Time' than eternity has to offer, almost gave Susie the win. Zero votes for Sugar (a surprise front runner who really battled and fought to position herself into the finals), three votes for Susie, and four votes for Bob. Had Susie won Survivor Gabon the ten plagues of the Apocalypse would have only been the beginning. The balance of the universe would have been so disturbed that Sean Penn would be happy and I would understand America's obsession with Nascar. Television would have become so out-of-control unbarable that Ugly Betty and According to Jim might seem like a good idea. Had Susie won Survivor Gabon I would have been upset. Not 'Gosh, poor Bob, that aggrevates me, and makes me want to reconsider the Big Picture' kind of upset, I mean real, heavy frown, punch-a-baby kind of upset (I would never punch a baby, but Susie winning $1,000,000 might make me want to scole at one, maybe even call it Not-Cute - that's like 'I curse your mustash' in baby-world, it's a big deal). But thank goodness none of this needed to go down, Susie lost, Bob won, tears, laughter, elephants, the odd African Tribal celebration, all is well, and Survivor Gabon is now locked is as a classic.

Susie: Yeah, yeah, 'that's a nice picture, what a sweet looking woman, good for her for making it as far as she did' right? Wrong?! This woman is queen of her own planet, and is totally out of here mind. Picture Tells a thousand words - this one tells all the wrong ones.

Bob vs Kenny: the Professional gamer that kept getting pissed off when Bob would foil his plans to turn on Bob. At one point Kenny asked Bob why he didn't give Kenny the Individual Immunity idol, Bob said 'Cause you were going to vote me out'.


















Thursday nights, 9pm, CBS. Watch it in High Def if possible, it makes the ugly uglier and the back-stabbing more back-stabby. The next round of chaos starts up in February. And in the end, lets face it, all that matters is that Probst is on the scene putting everyone in their place, telling it like it is, and flashing the odd dimple-drive smile. Watch Survivor, it's full of very... 'interesting' people (interesting, odd, strange, crazy, outrageous, bizzare, eccentric, what ever works). And if the show doesn't work for you, you're probably pretty 'interesting' yourself.

Jeff Probst: This guy is so good at hosting Survivor that a catergory at the Emmys was created so they could give him an award.

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Checking in: the Dog House

The other day I was told a story, and it was a good one. As a human who breaths on occasion and holds enough of a pulse to read this, you will not be able to deny an emotional response. I've thought about the situation from a number of sides and without exposing my own thoughts on the matter yet I will say this: I wish I had been there, and I wish it was my own story.

Our story's Hero receives a call from his girlfriend who is out with the gals for the night. It's that call that comes when 'Girls Night Out' breaks the rules and 'No Guys' becomes 'A Guy'. At this point it's entirely possible for the 'A Guy' to become 'A few Guys' to become 'A Party', but that is not the case here, that story is for another time, this story needs A Guy and Four Girls in order to work. So he joins the girls at a local bar where drinks, and laughs, and tall tales are circling the table. At a certain point during the evening a sequence of events begins to unfold which inevitably brings us to the climactic punch line. Having twice heard the story myself, I realize that once this particular discussion began, there was no way of avoiding the controversial outcome.

Of the four girls, the one that is holding court is not not-chubby and is not not-frustrated about it. She gets lost in a rolling momentum of irritation as she vents to the table on her current lack of success with eHarmony.com. No one is giving her a chance, all they (the men who are most likely equally irritated with the 'relationship' site) are doing is committing to not-committing to anything beyond the profile picture. You can choose to take sides on that loaded topic right now, but at this point I'm not even going to get into the mis-adventures of the On-line Dating World, or the appropriate level of importance that the relationship predators should or should not invest in physical appearance. I'm not getting into it, because compared with what's to come, it's just not as Fun.

The not not-chubby one tears on and begins to rally the troops. The direction of conversation traffic seems to have the green light down the road of 'Man is evil', 'Girl Power', 'the World isn't Fair', 'Blah blahblah Blah blah...'. Our Hero interjects. To this point he had been casually observing, and enjoying, the mysterious behaviors of the four girls on Girls-Night-Out. Like watching the TV or attending the theatre or poorly playing a video game where you later realize the controller isn't even connected to the console and for the last half hour you've been aggressively watching the 'computer' play the game while you grip the controller, our Hero was not involved. As a side note, the 'playing a video game while not playing' scenario is legitimate, I know an actual person that did this, and if it wasn't for this current story, it would be the front and centre narrative. But it's not, so our Hero interjects...

"Maybe you should just lower your expectations..." he tosses out above the table, pausing for the girls to take it all in, "like I did..." BAM!!!! There it is. While surrounded by his girlfriends she-soldiers, and our Hero's little lady herself, he enjoys the momentary uncertainty while his audience digests what he's served up. And then the silence breaks apart into a cacophony of uncontrolled laughter. Smiles circle the table. Our Hero is funny. He has captured the approval of the jury. Even the not not-chubby one, with her Man-Hating one liners seems to have forgotten her repressed rage for the moment and is indulging in a good piece of happiness. But wait. As the laughter is picked up and thrown back and forth by the four girls, one girl stops the cackling, the chuckling, and the giggles, and decides it's not funny, he's not funny, nothing about any of it is even close to funny anymore. She decides that that comment is just down right mean. She is offended, and far from pleased with him.

Any thoughts on the matter? What if I told you it's three days later and our Hero has been spending his time in and around the Dog-House. Over-reaction by his special gal? Would it make a difference if I said that The comment was disguised in dry-comedy, delivered with only a touch of a smile? Are you a believer in the 'All Comedy is rooted in the truth'? It's all fun and games until someone decides it is neither fun nor a game, that it is in fact time for the silent treatment. And so our Hero is faced with the only option that is left for Dog-House residents; the apology. And man oh man, do not mess that up. You think the Dog-House is a tough place to live, toss out a half-hearted, sarcastic 'Saurrrryy', and life will get pretty interesting pretty fast.

Having told this story to a number of people, I've heard a variety of opinions from both sides of the dilemma. Girls that think the victim of this tale is being too sensitive (never tell someone this to their face, 'Don't Pass Go, Don't Collect $200, Go Straight to the Dog-House), guys that wouldn't dare drop that kind of bomb on their girlfriends for fear of a slap in the face and a text-message break-up, and everything in between. Oddly enough the person who first sent this story my way will regularly spicy up the conversation with his own little gems of this nature, and yet when I asked him about it he thought our Hero was over the line (he was also unaware of his joking tendencies though, and was shocked to hear me toss out a couple of examples of his edgy routine).

In my opinion, which of course is the opinion of a friend of a friend, twice removed from the affected individuals, participating only as a cog in the Tall-Tale-Machine of Story Telling, I know that it depends not only on the players (the hes and the shes), the rules (friend, family, acquaintance, arch-Nemesis), and the game itself (first-date, last-date, not-a-date, never-a-date), but also on the delivery, which is guaranteed to be fully loaded with everything from too-much-body-language, to the wrong-kind-of-tone, to an uneven-casting-of-shadows-across-ones-face, depending on who's on the receiving end. In my opinion if you can evaluate all these wild and crazy variables fast enough to still seem clever and witty... before unleashing something as creative as our Hero did... and manage to walk away a Sweetheart without ruffling any not not-chubby feathers... well then, you should be teaching a class. You are superhuman. Share your knowledge of these Dark Arts.

In my opinion if someone isn't disagreeing with you, then you're not trying hard enough.

In my opinion our Hero is a Hero. Well played my friend, well played.

Evolution of Pathogens... not on his watch.

The future of Sci-Fi Horror films... as long as the reality of these bio-killers don't take us out first. The world is scary:

http://www.cnn.com/2008/WORLD/africa/12/08/pip.zoonotics/index.html

First off, the doc following the hunters in this article, Dr. Nathan Wolfe, this guy has a great name. And I'm thinking that it maybe a name a little to edgy and epic for a 'researcher'. But then I find out he's not just another lab coat juggling test-tubes, this guy is the Jack Bauer of the 'viral chatter world'... sweet.













Second on the docket: the transmission of Monkeypox to the US. Who is importing African Rodents as pets?!?! Are you kidding me, it's bad enough that rodents are migrating from Africa to the Americas, but they don't even need to put together any sort of crazy Madagascar movie hair-brained plot to invade us, people are actually taking care to bringing them over (via leash?).

And finally 'Deadly Zoonotic Viruses lurking in the forest' does not sound good, not at all. Dr. Nathan Wolfe, protector of the innocent, Viral Superhero, the Mitch Rapp of the viral underground, is a new favorite of mine. Big fan right here...







Anyone who didn't already know: Yes, Science is this Cool!

Sunday, December 7, 2008

The Grown-up World

Today as I sat at my desk, happy with the cold winter weather that swirled outside the warm and cozy office building where my comfortable little cubicle hides, I came across a clever parable that kindly poked fun at the North American Auto industry. I read through the parable with a smile. 'Parables are fun', I thought to myself, 'so is chatter about the silliness of the real world'.

The parable went a little like this:

A Japanese company ( Toyota ) and an American company (Ford) decided to have a canoe race on the Missouri River . Both teams practiced long and hard to reach their peak performance before the race. On the big day, the Japanese won by a mile. The Americans, very discouraged and depressed, decided to investigate the reason for the crushing defeat. A management team made up of senior management was formed to investigate and recommend appropriate action. Their conclusion was the Japanese had 8 people rowing and 1 person steering, while the American team had 8 people steering and 1 person rowing. Feeling a deeper study was in order, American management hired a consulting company and paid them a large amount of money for a second opinion. They advised, of course, that too many people were steering the boat, while not enough people were rowing. Not sure of how to utilize that information, but wanting to prevent another loss to the Japanese, the rowing team's management structure was totally reorganized to 4 steering supervisors, 3 area steering superintendents, and 1 assistant superintendent steering manager. They also implemented a new performance system that would give the 1 person rowing the boat greater incentive to work harder. It was called the 'Rowing Team Quality First Program,' with meetings, dinners, and free pens for the rower There was discussion of getting new paddles, canoes, and other equipment, extra vacation days for practices and bonuses. The next year the Japanese won by two miles. Humiliated, the American management laid off the rower for poor performance, halted development of a new canoe, sold the paddles, and canceled all capital investments for new equipment. The money saved was distributed to the Senior Executives as bonuses and the next year's racing team was out-sourced to India . Sadly, The End.

Attached to the Parable were a few additional thoughts:

Here's something else to think about: Ford has spent the last thirty years moving all its factories out of the US , claiming they can't make money paying American wages. TOYOTA has spent the last thirty years building more than a dozen plants inside the US . The last quarter's results: TOYOTA makes 4 billion in profits while Ford racked up 9 billion in losses. Ford folks are still scratching their heads. IF THIS WEREN'T TRUE, IT MIGHT BE FUNNY.

Not too long after enjoying the tiny tale, I received a second bit of commentary on the Big Three and their on-going struggle to stay on the road. It hit me with blow after blow of crazy-talk; benefits through layoffs, unions and their black-magic, payouts to the unemployed, bounus for the managers who ran the companies into the ground, and on and on, until I was on the ground getting the 10-count.

Second bit of commentary went a little like this:

Any successful business must be able to respond to fluctuations in demand for its products, but the Big Three’s job-security agreements with its unions make that process burdensome and costly. Earlier this year, I visited a General Motors assembly plant in Moraine, Ohio, that is scheduled to close on December 23. The Moraine assembly plant made SUVs, and since demand for SUVs has fallen sharply, GM decided to shut down the Moraine plant. Of course, it’s not that simple. The workers at the Moraine plant belonged to IUE-CWA, an electrical workers’ union with contracts similar to those the UAW has negotiated. As a result of those agreements, IUE-CWA members in Moraine were offered buyouts of $70,000 to $140,000 for any worker who voluntarily quits. Other workers were made eligible for early retirement. GM employees who don’t opt for a buyout or early-retirement package will qualify for GM’s supplemental unemployment benefits, meaning that GM will make up the difference between their former wages and their state unemployment checks. When the unemployment checks run out, GM will pay these workers 95 percent of their former wages for up to two years, depending on seniority. Workers with at least ten years of seniority are eligible for the Job Opportunity Bank Security program. This is the notorious jobs bank that allows laid-off workers to receive their regular hourly pay while sitting around doing crossword puzzles or reading the paper. If GM offers these employees an opportunity to transfer to another plant, they have the right to turn down a limited number of such offers. And if no offer is made, they can stay in the jobs bank until they retire. GM currently has around 1,400 workers nationwide in the jobs bank.

When I came to I was flabbergasted (which is a state I rarely find myself in - surprised sure, shocked of course, at times even stunned, but flabbergasted... this was a treat, I let me thoughts run rampant).

Rampant thoughts went a little like this:

WHAT THE- !??!?!?! How is this an option. Your work is no longer required because the business you chose to go into is no longer in demand... it's a tough break, but that's your loss, NOT my loss. This is a ridiculous situation. These workers basically get to chose between three options, all of which result in them getting paid to do nothing. And where is all this money coming from that is paying these workers to do a whole lot of nothing for anywhere from a couple months to 'up to Forever'? My hard earned pay check. First the Big Bad corporation empties their pockets and then when this useless company that builds a garbage product for waaaaaaay too much money runs out of moola, the government is forced to bail them out because if they don't the League of Un-Extraordinary Gentlemorons will execute their Usurping of the Thrown and destroy the country from the inside out. If I'm looking at this right, and I like to think I am, this SNL skit of a scenario has to be true, because no one would buy into a fictional plot this absurd.

I replaced the grounded 10-count with a cool-down 10-count. At this point I was calmed by the reassurance that despite the mass movement by the loony-toons of the planet towards utter chaos, the world still seems to work. We are kept on course by the few, who are able to take what the crazies throw at them and make sense of it. I could hear Frank Costanza’s response to life’s frustrations... ‘Serenity Now!!!!’

True, Serenity Now... Insanity Later. I think one of the most shocking part this exploration that I wandered down is the lack of distinction between the decisions being made by 'experts' in the Grown-up world and those being toyed with by the 'explorer' on the playgrounds. Maybe I expected more of this world I'm entering into, maybe I am a glass-half-full kind of guy whose setting himself up for disappointment, maybe somethings are so ridiculous that you just have to Tom-Cruise-it-from-Risky-Business and say 'What the F...' with a big old smile on your face.

Later in the day an email dropped into my inbox at just the right time convincing me that as I first suspected, some of these things have to be taken in stride, digested, and put into perspective. The email spoke of a father’s passionate address to a graduating class which his son would have been apart of had he not lost the battle to a debilitating mental and physical disease. The details of the story weren’t as moving as the message of human kindness that had surrounded the boy’s life, as people offering inclusion to the boy were constantly gifted pure happiness in return.

It’s far too easy at times to get caught up in the reasons the world needs help, and ignore the small moments that make those problems a concern in the first place. It was a small part of my day today, but it was an important roller-coaster ride for me to get caught on as I try to figure out this new scene, this Grown-up World.

Monday, November 17, 2008

Quarter-Life Crisis

I'm almost 25 (that's Almost 25, I still have plenty of youthful 24 to take advantage of). Over the last few months I have been devoting some thought to my upcoming Quarter-Life Crisis. I take this milestone event very seriously, and don't want to simply jump into some sort of crazy decision... I want to iron out the details of said crazy decision first. The MID-Life Crisis is easier to figure out, there are solid road maps available; hair-plugs, Porches, new 20-something trophy wives (for the divorcées - edgy? I know).


















The Quarter-Life melt down on the other hand is a tricky one. I've toyed with a few ideas:

1) Get really Fat, go on the Biggest Loser, get skinny, and win big money... to buy food and get fat again (see, this could in fact be recycled as a Mid-Life Crisis later on).
2) Learn to play the guitar, quit, give it another go 3 months later, quit, and then continue the cycle well into my 30s.
3) Smash a guitar (this would follow the above, ideally after a few cycles have run their course).
4) Sell my belongings, cash out my savings, burn the money, and wander off with out a plan; 'Into the Wild' style.
5) The above option, but without the burning of the money, and the ominous 'Into the Wild' reference, sooo Travel.
6) Become Tony Stark... or Bruce Wayne, really either one would get the job done. Batman does get to wear a cap though... hmmmm.
7) Learn to juggle swords, or fire, or swords on fire, Oooo, or Chainsaws!!!
8) Learn to cook, Eat the food, become Fat - (refer to item 1 above).
9) Get into flying kites, or building models, or constructing 3D puzzles - Ooooor continuing to not do any of these activities, and feeling Great about that choice.
10) Join the C.I.A. as a spy (cause this is something you can simply choose to do).
11) Get Nun-chucks.
12) Become an astronaut and walk on the moon (you need to shoot for the stars... or the moon in this case).
13) Go on Survivor and befriend Jeff Probst.
14) Go on Big Brother and try to evict Julie Chen.
15) Go on the Amazing Race and punch a Travelosity Gnome.
15) Join the circus.
16) Learn to not count '15' twice.
17) Pull off a Heist.
18) Eat more Candy.
19) Take longer and more frequent Naps.
20) Become a dominant Board Game player.
21) Continue to be Awesome, always.

The key is to commit. It's about wandering well out of your comfort zone in search of the big rewards regardless of the big risks. It's about a touch of regret with a taste age, as the invincibility of youth begins to slip away. It's also about being a huge goof, and wanting a little more attention (I'm a Quarter of a Century Old, Look at Meeeeeee!).

















The truth is 25 doesn't bother me. The day will come and go and aside from blowing out the candles and getting a few extra B-Day hugs (and loving having a Party that's all about Me), I will be the same person. It's a nice round number, it's five hands worth of fingers (Oh, add it to the list: return to describing my age by the finger... I'm This many), it's five years away from Thirty and fifteen years away from Fourty (which is the new Thirty). It's that age where you're old enough and young enough at the same time. It's an exciting piece of life that's action-packed with uncertainty, potential, enthusiasm, and an eagerness to search for more. I didn't ask the question before, but I'll ask it now: Am I ready to embrace my Mid-Twenties? Like a Shark embracing a weekend Surfer. (Perfect, add it to the list: 'Learn to Surf'... wait, 'Learn to beat up a Shark' then 'Learn to Surf').

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Italy - 100km Later...

My phone buzzed. I dropped everything (which in this case was a piece of toast and a good chuck of the newspaper). It was a new text message with the latest update:

'Almost finished! So far so good. If he stays on pace he could get 7:50 and a possible Canadian record for the masters ultra! Will know within the hour.'

MomVsWild (my Mother and seeker of great adventures) was keeping me posted with updates on the 100km Ultramarathon World Cup as the race unfolded. This year's event was being held in the Tuscany region of Italy, so while I woke up a little early for a Saturday, the sun was starting to disappear on the athletes over seas.

WebbRacer (my Father and avid participant in this crazy sport) was chasing down a Personal Best and was working on the climax of the story. A story that was full of heavy training, mental preparation, race strategizing, and hours and hours of logged miles. This is not just jogging (or maybe it's yogging, I don't know, the J might be silent); this is a daily running streak that stretches out over a quarter of a century, this is the determination to qualify for the Canadian National Team, this is molding a runner's body into an Enduro-Machine that's injury-free, this is 100 kilometer battles in 35 degrees of Celsius heat, city-to-city slogs through the Open-Heaven-Downpours of B.C.'s winter season, and spirit -crushing defeats in the midnight wilderness of the Lost Souls Eco-Challenge-on-steroid's 100miles of mayhem. This is what happens when foot races are taken to the next level. This is the underground of running. This is a way of life that is being showcased. This is a full day of travel, halfway around the world to tackle a 100 kilometer test with the best that Long-Distance Planet Earth has to offer. This is the Big Dance. And as WebbRacer faces the last leg, and MomVsWild helps to manage the chaos, I wait thousands of miles away, clutching my phone, hoping this is not just jogging, that this is IT!

The next text came flying across the ocean with such force that I could feel the excitement all the way from Italy. 7:39!!!!! I was floored. I couldn't believe it. WebbRacer had crushed the race and destroyed the idea of disappointment with a strong Personal Best on the 100km track. He was the first Canadian to cross the line, and finished 32nd overall, IN THE WORLD. It was way too early on a Saturday morning for me to be this excited, but I was, I was ecstatic. Later, news from the finish line told of the extreme conditions that left casualties in the wake of an intense Tuscan heat. And while racers were reduced to the Death Walk, WebbRacer pulled from his Edmonton Scorch-out 100k that had turned him into a full body cramp a year ago, and pushed on, slowly moving up through the ranks. The struggle hit at the 85km mark, but in the words of WebbRacer, 'It's all about the struggle'. He had spent most of the race in a constant fight, trying to maintain his pace and not indulge in the faster speeds, and the result was a later 'struggle point' and enough juice left in the tank to complete the Personal Record.

Meanwhile MomVsWild was in high demand playing Support Crew. In a 100 kilometer race, it's not just the Runner and the Elements, it's the Runner, the Elements, and the team that helps them live through the experience. Fluids to hydrate, Foods to fuel, a calculated balance of electrolytes, new shoes, clothes for all conditions, and most importantly the motivating words to convince someone that 'to keep running' is a better idea than not to. Race Whisperer. MomVsWild first had a hand in the very involved preparation that is required for a team of 11 of these crazy Ultra runners. During the race itself she manned the Aid Station and then essential became a triage nurse as victims of the long battle crossed the finish line in slightly better shape then Horrendous.

In the end, win or lose, race or crew, hot, cold, rain, wind, Italy or anywhere else, the result is the same; Exhaustion, and lots of it.

The latest update from MomVsWild and WebbRacer has them transitioning from 'Recovery' to 'Vacationator', as they begin to explore Italy's non-race scene. The fall-out for a Personal Best hasn't been debilitating, but it's taken time for team Webb to come back to life. The plan for the second leg of the trip is to experience Florence, then Rome, and finally London. And after a time of 7:39, I'd say the Folks have earned a bit of a holiday.

Over the passed few days, as I've updated the rest of the WebbRacer Fanatics on the World Cup success, my mind has wondered to the wounder of the event. 32nd overall. My Dad qualified, ran, and ranked with the best in the world. Out of the billions and billions of people on the planet, he finished 32nd. 32nd!!!! I am beyond proud, and have been telling anyone who is anyone who is Everyone who is willing to listen, that my Old Man ranked among the best of the best. I'm just happy to have been involved in such an achievement ('involved' in that I happen to share the last name, and have run along side the WebbRacer on occasion - for significantly shorter distances). And here's the best part; with this result, WebbRacer is looking at a qualification for next years Worlds in Belgium as well as the Commonwealth Games in September. Today it's all about the 7:39 in Italy, but the excitement is far from over. Stay tuned for more from WebbRacer and MomVsWild when they are next seen in '2009's World-Class Doubleheader'.

Congratulations to Richard Webb, and his extensive team (Marie Webb)!

Post-Script Note: 'Old Man', HA! What a Riot! Cause that's what 'Old Men' do, they run 100km in sub-8hours...

Go to the MomVsWild blog for all the first hand stories of the Race and the Days leading up to the Big Day:

Monday, November 3, 2008

"Dexter Style Killing"? Yeah I have a problem with this.

I dont' know what I'm more disappointed in; the fact that someone thought it would be a good idea to play copy-cat to Showtime's serial-killer-of-killers Dexter, or that they did such a horrible job of it. The Edmonton Journal reported that a 29 year-old filmmaker and show enthusiast (also reads 'Deeply Deranged Lunatic Nutcase Fanatic') has been charged with the murder of a man that went missing three weeks ago. It was reported by Police that Johnny Altinger was lured to a detached residential double garage in the south of Edmonton under the pretense of rendezvousing with a girl he had recently met on-line. Oddly enough this garage was the same garage that had been recently used to film a short movie, by Mark Twitchell (the Dexter-Loving creative mind that felt it was a good idea to base this alleged murder on a project he had just wrapped... at the Same Location!!).

The whole scene is a disaster. First off, if it feels like a stretch to believe that a 38 year-old man would agree to set a first date location with a girl he met on the internet at a garage, how far fetched is Twitchell's ridiculous plotline? If I'm watching a movie and the main character thinks this is a good idea, I'm dropping the old 'Come On, Really?', and then I'm pulling the plug on it. It gets worse because not only did Twitchell first film the scenario (what as some sort of test-drive or trial run?) before following through with the real deal (allegedly of course... still no body to be found), but it looks as though this was his second attempt at bringing his film to life. Two area residents reported seeing an individual fleeing the garage on October 3rd, being chased by a man wearing a black-and-gold-painted hockey goalie mask (a mask that was later found in Twitchell's residence after it was used in his film... come on Mark, are you kidding me?)

If it wasn't bad enough that Twitchell advertised the whole event in his movie, he also went ahead and spent some time alluding to his Dexter-ways on both Facebook and his MySpace page, refering to himself as 'Mark has way to much in common with Dexter Morgan' and 'Mark is set to Evil'.




















How Creepy is this Guy? And how badly does he want to be Dexter Morgan? Messed up.

So at this point we have two issues thanks to Mark Twitchell; the first being that he is running around doing a horrible impression of Dexter, the second (and the more serious of the two) is that he has provided support to those who disapproved of the television's portrayl of a vigilante hero. When I first brought the premise of Dexter (seriel killer who kills killers) to people I knew, there was a variety of responses that resembled everything from 'Sweeeeeet, I love this guy already!!!!!!' to 'Yikes, I don't think that's sending the right message at all'. But what many viewers realize soon after getting hooked on the show is that Dexter doesn't focus on the Right-vs-Wrong of being a Vigilante, but rather involves the subject. The show is driven by complex characters, clever writting, a twisting plotline, and a devilish narrative that allows the audience inside the head of the intriguing Dexter Morgan. The Showtime series spends about as much time highlighting Dexter's vigilante night-life as Friday Night Lights does football. Sure in FNL's case the show's shell is a high school football team, but you don't need to be the guy who watches eight-hours of NFL every Sunday with the option of a couple bonus quarters on Mondays, to enjoy the strength of the Dillon Panther's team dynamic, the adolescent dilemmas, and the intricacy of human behaviour. Dexter Morgan follows a strick code, continually battles with his Dark Passenger's hunger, and is constantly faced with The question of the Vigilante way of life. What Dexter is not, is some Loony-bin Applicant that runs around in a black-and-gold-painted hockey goalie mask, poorly re-enacting his own troubled fiction. My hope is that Mark Twitchell is seen as a Crazy Person with one too many voices in his head, wanting not to make a movie, but to be a movie. My fear is that the show Dexter will be in anyway associated with this ridiculousness. The unfortunate thing is that most people won't get the chance to see passed the 'Filmmaker charged in 'Dexter' killing' headlines, and will question whether or not a show like Dexter should be on TV. The answer to that question is a definite yes, the answer to the other question (should the Mark Twitchell's be allowed to compare themselves to Dex?) is an outstanding No.

Dexter - Season 3 so far

It was recently pointed out to me, by a committed student of the Dexter Morgan Cronicles, that everybody's favourite Forensics-Superhero/Big-Hearted-Murderous-Monster is not just a participant in the dilemma of Good-vs-Evil-vs-Right-Wrong-and-the-Inbetween but is also a great teacher of Life Lessons. In a recent episode of the Showtime Fav, Joey Quinn, the new slick Dic on the Miami Metro scene, made magic and manipulated the masses by defending Miserable Masuka in front of the Police Department Big Wigs. Suddenly a hero, Quinn was the same guy who caused poor Vince Masuka to tailspin into a self-doubting disaster when he bluntly told the querky forensics nerd that people didn't like him. As my Dexter Confident informed me, this was the second time in as many episodes that Pretty-Boy Quinn had exercised his charasmatic muscles, vaulting himself out of a person's bad-books and right on to their Best-Bud list. Previously on the 'Quinn Smooths Things Over' show, he had stepped up to bat for Deb after underminding her (aka using her shamelessly to snag the win on their latest case) and once again made everything alllllll better. The guy is good. The Dexter Analysts give the technique two thumbs up, pointing out it's brilliance in being able to identifying the person's 'hurt' and then filling their 'need' (some classics being the need to feel 'important', or 'valued', or just 'all warm and fuzzy inside').



My goal of course has been to have everyone love the Jackson, and so far things have gone pretty well; minus a few broken hearts and Bold-worded e-mails (have you ever received Hate Mail in your e-mail inbox, no one needs that, wireless yelling, it's both hurtful and impersonal all at the same time). BUT you never know when you might need this type of 007 charm to calm the waters. DEXTER!!!!!! Entertaining and Educational.



After what was arguably a flawless rookie season, I've been trying to ignore the fear I have that one day the series will get caught in it's own clever web and become a cliche of itself. Half a dozen episodes into season three and the show still ends with me dropping the old 'Best Show on TV!!! Period!' I'm really intrigued by this season's new Puzzle Piece, Miguel Prrrrrado, and have been trying to see how he'll fit into the overall Dexter-Picture. In both season one and season two, when someone was introduced to Dexter's Dark Passenger, they had pretty serious issues occupying their own scene; Dex's Bro was taking the 'Family Business' waaaaay too seriously, and Lyla was a complete lunatic psycho (who Roophy's themselves? that's a new level of crazy). But Miguel is an upstanding citizen. Sure he's hungry for justice, and is a little down on the System, but the guy is far closer to 'Normal' than some of Dexter's passed confidents. This might actually make Miguel the scariest addition to Dexter's secret world, and the most interesting. Plus I love all the other stuff that season 3 is offering; Dexter the Dad and Hubby, Deb and her Criminal love interest, Angel's new position of power vs his pursuit of Miss-Bad-A$$-Cop-Lady, Masuka's Feelings, IA and the mysterious Quinn... and what's the deal with buddy who's collecting trophy skin patches off his victims? Great stuff, really great stuff.






















If you're not watching this show... wow, just stop reading now, rent the first 2 seasons, and don't stop watching until the Bay-Harbour Butcher has been taken care of.

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

The Halloween

Ah Halloween... To be honest I miss being a kid when it comes to Halloween. I also miss being a kid when it comes to fist-fights over missed calls during marathon games of hide-and-go-sneak tag, and watching four and a half hours of Saturday morning Cartoons while sitting two feet from the TV, but there's something extra special about the connection between Halloween and being a kid. It's just not the same Holiday when you're a grown-up (and yes, I consider Halloween to be a major holiday). I miss the trick-or-treating extravaganza with a gang of friends, I miss drowning my house in black and orange decorations (aka making a huge mess), I miss all the themed events leading up to All Hallows Eve at school, and I miss the Candy. Oh wow, do I miss the Candy. I mean lets face it, where else are you going to find this kind of deal.

'Sooooo I have to agree to run around in a costume with a bunch of my pals, yell at random houses as I make my way down the street, and people will give me Candy? Lots of Candy? I don't even have to ask for it, all I have to do is give them the 'code'? I can commit to this idea. Let's do it!'

Now there's a good exercise for developing work ethic in children; higher effort and efficiency yields better results. I wanted the Candy, and I was willing to figure out how best to get it. At my trick-or-treating best, when I was in peak trick-or-treating form, I was developing detailed neighbourhood street plans in order to map out my route. I had everything timed out, I had alterations to my costumes to allow for speed, I was resting up prior to the event in order to improve my performance. I actually recruited people to my trick-or-treating gang based on their ability to endure hours of high energy Halloweening within a structured and rigid schedule. We were great. It was a good time to be a kid and a good time to love Candy. The night's success was easy to evaluate: Fun plus Candy equals Awesomeness. In a good year I had Halloween Candy holding me over until it was time to search for Easter Eggs. This is the Halloween I love, and this is the Halloween I miss.














The 3 Amigos... My Tyler Durdan Get-Up was a huge success. Fincher and Pitt would have been proud.

That was then, this is now. Times have changed. Most years my routine is to watch a Scary movie or two while giving out candy to newer, less awesome versions of my past-self. So I can't run from house to house anymore, doesn't mean Halloween is over for this guy. At this point all I can hang on to from the 'good old days' is the costume custom. (I am going to make a great Old-Person, at 24 I am already exaggerating my past and loving the 'how things used to be' stories). It's basically an excuse to play dress-up and act like what ever crazy character you've decided to become. That is my Halloween motivation; to play dress-up. So whether it's dishing out candy to miniature Spidermans, hanging out with friends who are all 'way too old to Love Halloween this much', or wandering through a crowded night club where 'Freak' is the norm, I will be in a costume and I will be loving it. I am will to say that if it wasn't so socially unacceptable (as in I would get institutionalized) I would be at my desk right now, with a light-saber at my side, one with my inner Obi-Wan. Times may have changed, but I am the same Candy-Hungry, Costume-Crazy, 20-something Hooligan, and I will always love The Halloween.















I'm not Drunk, I'm 'Pirate'. Basically I had the Hair for the Part... what choice did I have.

Friday, October 24, 2008

Where am I?!?!

I found this tall tale to be worth sharing because it excels in the three major categories needed to qualify as a "Story Full of Awesomeness":

1) I can relate.
2) I know it to be true.
3) I am still laughing about it.

There are of course other important categories that a story can touch on, like 'Unbelievable-ness' or the 'Get Out of Here!' trigger, the 'gross-out factor', the 'You Dog You...' quality, the 'Obvious Lie' approach, the '...AND the Guy Got the Girl' punch-line, 'Massive Irony', 'Clueless Stupidity', 'Unbearable Embarrassment', the 'Awwwwwwww' induced response, and of course the 'Hero' and the 'Villain' drivers. Now forget about all that. That's not what I'm talking about, because this story doesn't get into any of that (well maybe a bit of the 'Clueless Stupidity', and perhaps some of the 'Get Out of Here!' mixed with the 'Unbearable Embarrassment'). Either way, for now know this, the following is true. It involves real places, and real people, and real ridiculousness. For the sake of privacy, I have replaced the name of our Brave Narrator with 'Ronald'; partly because the name sounds noble and proper and should provide an amusing juxtaposition to the stories overall journey, but mostly because I think it's a fun name to say. Give it a try: "Ronald... RonAlllld'. Beauty.

Here is the email that I received the other day in all its glory:

October 8, 2008 2:40 AM

Greeting from Munich (or München as they call it here- I try to use those double dots every chance I get).

The tales I'm about to recount are the result of tossing a naive traveller into the bowels of Europe forcing him to learn on the fly, and mess up royally even more often. I can't promise to make you laugh, or cry, or any other type of human emotion, but I can say with certainty that at some point whilst reading this email you will say to yourself "Ronald, you dumb motherf**ker". Let me set the scene for you: I'm huddled on a desolate train platform in Poland clutching my backpack like a baby koala holds onto its mother at the top of a Eucalyptus tree, just hoping the next train will get me out of this mess. "But Ronald" you might ask, "you never told anyone you were going to Poland". I know this. I believe the best way to summarize the events that got me here is a list of lessons I learned that day:


-There is more than one Frankfurt in Germany; one is located centrally on the Rhine river while the other is very close to the Polish border.


-A person travelling on a very fast train in a foreign country should not sleep unless they are absolutely sure they are going in the right direction.


-My Eurorail pass is not valid in Poland.

-Getting reprimanded for not having a proper board pass is scary, getting reprimanded in Polish is even scarier.
-Getting kicked off of the train onto a platform where nobody speaks English makes you feel like a dumba$$.


Mistakes such as this lead to a very long day of travel...

So I ended up getting to Frankfurt at around 12:30 in the morning (the right one), but for awhile there I thought I was going to have to build a lean to and spoon my bag in the middle of nowhere.

Aside from occasionally getting lost (just like home...) I'm having an awesome time. Germany is an amazing place, and Oktoberfest is beyond anything you could ever imagine. It's insane. Oh yeah, and in Frankfurt some old dude (like really old, almost frail old) tried to put me in a headlock in the middle of a pub. Thank god for my cat like reflexes...

How's Calgary?

ps: You better start winning some floor hockey games- I'm a free agent at the end of the season and I'm entertaining some very tempting offers from Russia.

Ronald


This email was titled "Add Poland to my list of 'countries I've accidentally been to'..." Below is a map that emphasizes Ronald's Interesting approach to finding Frankfurt.


















I still laugh, but only because I know the joys of losing ones way in Europe. Just over a year ago when I was juggling maps and jumping from one train to another, my brother and I managed to take the 'unintentional scenic route' well over a dozen times. In fact if we found our hostel without passing it three to four times first, it was a disappointment... (check out a few of the 'Webb mis-adventures' in our Europa Blog)


Neil and John Punch Europe in the Face!:
http://eurowebb.blogspot.com/2007/07/paris-london-you-know-just-your-average.html

Saturday, October 18, 2008

Rock Band Worries

The following is an exchange of emails littered with anxiety, desperation, and fear…


Wednesday, October 8th, 2008 – 9:13am

Hey Buddy. I have managed to get myself into a Rock Band Competition at work. I don't know how this happened. I was standing chatting with a couple of guys at our company’s General Meeting, and rock band came up (the company is participating in a United Way campaign, and the theme is Rock Band). I thought it would be appropriate to tell my '7 hour of Rock Band' story (I told you about this one right? Where I was on the drums all night, blistering up my hands and wearing down my arms – I don’t regret it for a second, the pain was worth it, and in no way am I embarrassed that I played Rock Band for 7 hours straight… on a Saturday night… with two other dudes… ). Well next thing I know, one of the guys I'm telling the story to has stopped some Random and casually said “Oh hey, here's a guy for your rock band group”. That guy talked to another guy who talked to some other guy who needed a guy but hadn’t be able to find a guy, and they all figured I could be that guy and should be that guy. Just say no right? Wrong, I’m That guy now. Anyway, this morning I was sent a list of songs. I'm playing guitar. Do you have any suggestions as to which might be easier for me to play on Medium. My ‘Band’ is going for the gold and basically told me to make it happen, ‘no pressure of course’, but yeah, make it happen. And when I say ‘easiest to play’, I mean ‘the song that will disguise the fact that I have no idea what I’m doing and I’m doing it in front of all my co-workers’. Oh right, and more importantly, can I come by your place on Monday next week to practice just a little. If we’re being honest, at this point, I am somewhat concerned.


Wednesday, October 8th, 2008 – 10:30am

Hey dude, that is quite the pickle you are in. Do you mean this coming Monday? Because I might have some bad news. To be 100% honest I think I'm going to be going on a hike during the day and then of course having a big Thanksgiving dinner, so probably no go there. As for the difficulty level of the songs you should be alright on Medium for any of those. Weezer is good, Garbage, Hole, one of my favourites is the Fallout Boy one. Hahaha, I cant believe they have an actual “band”…



Wednesday, October 8th, 2008 – 10:34am

I’m not panicking, just throwing out suggestions here: Would it be possible to borrow your PS3? I'm out of town until Sunday night, so Monday is really my only opportunity to make sure that I don't Suck on Tuesday. Because between 'Suck' and 'Not Suck', I'd prefer the latter. The 'Band' has decided to play ‘Garbage - I think I'm Paranoid’. And I am now playing Base. I was told not to worry ‘it’s much easier then Guitar’ – perfect easier then impossible, now I’m in great shape (a lot of sarcasm there, sarcasm with a strong hint of terror). We do get to dress up in costumes, which I'm sure I will excel at. I just don't want to go onto the stage cold (that's right, there is an actual stage).


Wednesday, October 8th, 2008 – 12:57pm

Yeah I guess we could swing that…. Is this some sort of competition? Like how is there a stage?



Wednesday, October 8th, 2008 – 1:02pm

It is definitely a Competition. People are taking this waaaaay to seriously. The pressure is on. They have the PS3 hooked up to a projection screen and it's all on an elevated platform (stage, a freakin stage, crap I need to stop thinking about this) in our main building’s atrium. There were hundreds of people watching on Day One (which was yesterday), hundreds!! Day two (which is when my band, 'Dude Where's My Band', is performing) is on Tuesday. You would be saving my Rock Band life if I could borrow your system on Monday. I would take very good care of her. I know how much that bad boy means to you. I think with some practice on Monday I'll be ready to destroy the competition (I am trying a new approach to this whole thing; forced confidence).


A series of phone calls were made. A pick up was scheduled. Several hours, one blister, and one Rock Star later the big day came. The following is a message sent out to all the Fans (I needed to update Mom and Dad)…


Tuesday, October 14th, 2008 – 1:27pm

Hey Team,

We came, we performed, and we were chased off the stage. The reality of the situation was that we failed out twice and never completed more then 30% of the song. The spin that we're putting on it is that the system did us in (Blame the Man!!!!). Both runs at Garbage's "I think I'm Paranoid" had our Vocal Lead failing out quickly, and we hadn't had the chance to bank any Star Power, so we couldn't save her. Look at this, I'm truly embracing my inner Rock Star as I start throwing band members under the 'tour bus'...

A few positive points:
1) I was quite awesome. I challenge the song with the Hard level, and for the minute or so that we played I was really on top of things.
2) It was a tone of fun. I was glad that I got up there, in front of the masses, and gave it a go.
3) Excellent stage presence. My costume really sold the persona, and I was movin to the groovin, tossing out cheers and getting the crowd going.

I only wish that we could have played for a bit longer. In the end I'd like to send a special thanks to my Rock Band coach and mentor, you know who you are, for giving me the opportunity to reach for the (rock) stars. Realistically I'm just glad it wasn't my fault that we Failed miserably...

John 'Bon Jovi' Webb


Tuesday, October 14th, 2008 – 2:01pm

That’s really good news. As long as it wasn’t you failing out then you did your part. Did the vocalist do it on hard as well?? Because hard difficulty for vocals are very very difficult and you have to be very accurate. But that’s sweet, I cant believe they put this on. How were the other “bands”. Hahahha and I appreciate the shout out, that’s usually all I ever ask for.



Tuesday, October 14th, 2008 – 2:24pm

I was definitely the most excited about our 30% completion Failing, my goal from the beginning was to 'not suck'... mission accomplished. It really was all about the Sunday-Monday practice sessions (and by 'practice' I mean 'study' – my brother and sister have midterms so I was approaching my big Rock Band debut like a test, they did not like this comparison). I think our Vocalist may have been on Hard. It was funny, cause she’s actually a fairly accomplished singer, and was really confident. She wasn’t very confident after getting destroyed by a video game, twice, in front of hundreds of people. In the end it was probably for the best that we burned out quickly, cause all the other bands were made up of full-time gamers, gamers with Mullet Wigs. Thanks again for lending me the PS3, you saved the day.


















I learned two things from my Rock Band Competition experience: I make a great rock star, as long as I don’t have to play a real instrument, and by the time you are performing for people, on a stage, in a costume, Rock Band is really just a small step up from ‘competitive air-guitar’… a line I will never cross.

Thursday, October 16, 2008

Attack of the Killer Chihuahuas

Queue the Deep, Raspy Trailer-Guy Voice: "DiCaprio... Crowe... in a film by Ridley Scott..." Three heavy hitters with a gazzillion oscar nods, and I'm thinking to myself... 'How fast can I get to Beverly Hills Chihuahua?' Really!? COME ON!!!!! Action-Thriller full of deception, conspiracy, Good-Guys vs Bad-Guys vs Worse-Guys, ooooor talking dogs on the adventure of a life time (and I use the word 'dog' quite loosely - a Chihuahua can't decide if it wants to be an ugly cat or a bad impression of chinese food).

Who is seeing this movie? Parents are dragging their kids to the theatre and having to field 2 hours worth of questions about why funny looking rats that can talk are cracking lame one-liners and having far-fetched mis-adventures. Stop it!!! You are warping your children, and killing the Box Office numbers. You'd be better off letting 'Quarantine' baby-sit for the afternoon, at least then we wouldn't have toddlers running around quoting Drew Barrymore's version of Chole, the diamond-clad, bootie wearing Beverly Hills Rat-Dog-Flying Squirl Chihuahua (sure they'd be battling reaccuring Nightmares for the better part of a decade, but we must make sacrifices).

Two weeks in a Row!?!?! You're killing me! Now I'll have to try and explain to my future kids one day that 'Yes, I did live through the Chihuahua ordeal' and 'No, I don't know why classic action movies like 'Eagle Eye' and 'Body of Lies' were being destroyed at the Box Office by the talking rodent/farret things'.

I've tried. I've tried to picture myself asking for a ticket to see Beverly Hills Chihuahua, but I can't come up with a scenario where that would happen; "What if it was the only movie to survive a End-of-the-Film-World Apocalypse?" Not even close. I would rather close my eyes and try to picture the Body of Lies trailer (which incidently was a two minute preview that left me beyond confused and absolutely baffled... and I desparately wanted more - so what gives). But no, the people don't want Leo, Bad-Ass Russell Crowe, and Mr. "Gladiator/Black Hawk Down/Thelma and Louise", they want the Chihuahua.

With that said, I haven't seen Beverly Hills Chihuahua, and who knows it could be amazing... highly doubtful, but stranger things have happened... nothing comes to mind, but you never know. All I can hope for at this point is that Wahlberg's Max Payne will end the evil tirade of this mutant-mouse-donkey-cross, and order can restored to the Box Office Universe.

Max Payne Synopsis:

"Max Payne (Wahlberg) is a cop whose family and partner are brutally murdered. He embarks on a maverick path, venturing into the underworld to find those responsible for the murders. Payne finds that he faces both very powerful enemies and betrayal." - Sounds like the perpect perscription for 'Too Much Chihuahua'.



Proceed with Caution: I recommend watching no more then 40 seconds of this video... by the 1min mark you will want to punctur your ear drums, claw your eyes out, and Punch Babies. Your Call.


Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Guy Ritchie vs Madonna

RockNRolla comes out at the end of the month, and I bet Ritchie had to choose: Awesome London-Underground movies or Bitchy, stuck-up, A-Rod frequenting Madonnas... I choose Lock, Snatch, and two Revolver Rollas, but then again Madonna could probably crush me just by flexing her tricepts before dancing around by buised ego in a furry of scary
70s/80s/90s/forever Pop-Stardom...
tough call.


Wanna Sneak Peak at Life Sans-Madonna, Ritchie Style:


Thank you to EmpireOnline.com for the tour...