The Ottocracy

RENT: Hey, I know that guy!

2010-08-10T23:47:00.000-07:00

[Editorial Note: This one's a twofer, folks: not only will it double the size of my ~~world~~Ottocracry-renowned "theater review" catalog, but I also get to give a shout-out to one of my first friends from elementary school.]

So, just in time for my wedding, my good friend from back home moved down here (though I don't think that was the primary impetus for the move). Before he even had all of his boxes unpacked, he had his acting career back up and running. This had the unfortunate, though not unexpected, consequence of us not seeing him for the last month or so. It was all well worthwhile when he invited my wife and me to the premier of his California debut: RENT at City Lights in San Jose.

It's worth noting that I haven't seen RENT before, so I didn't really know much about the story (other than it had something to do with AIDS and possibly the LGBTQ community). So I'll admit that I didn't catch all of the details of the story, but I followed enough of it. What I can tell you for sure is that my friend's performance triggered in me an almost overpowering urge to stand up and "boo" him.

Oh, wait, did I mention that he played sort of the "villain" role? Well whoops, sorry about that. You may want to reread that last bit again, then.

Anyways, I think what I was most unexpectedly impressed by was the stunt work. Yes, the stunt work. I don't know if this is typical of other RENT performances, but it was a veritable stage-full of Jackie Chans up there. And I don't recall him ever doing any of his work in the heels I saw these brave women AND men sporting as they leapt to and from the sturdy but unsecured metal tables, risking their lives (or at least their ankles!) in the name of art. And I think Angel deserves special recognition in this category. Even in that outfit (or especially in that outfit?), he's clearly a braver man than I.

So if you live in the bay area, or if you just really love RENT, then make sure to check out my friend (and, I suppose, the rest of the cast) at City Lights Theater!

Sabbatical Catch-up: Movie Reviews #1

2010-08-02T22:55:00.000-07:00

Date Night:
Amidst all of the wedding planning turmoil, my now-wife/then-fiancée and I managed to make a rare date night out of Date Night. Maybe we were just desperate for a break, but whatever the cause, we had a blast at this movie. Please note that if you don't care for Carell and/or Fey, then this may not be the movie for you (especially if you went with "and"). We, however, felt their combo was just what we needed.

Oh, and the shirtless Wahlberg didn't exactly hurt her opinion of the movie, either...

A-Team:
I don't know what unstable slurry of arrogance, bravery and stupidity was being piped into the movie executives' feeding trough the week this concept came across their desks (even the consideration of which should, in and of itself, have made them deserving of some sort of recognition from Colbert), but I must admit that the end result wasn't anywhere near the Ghost Rider-like travesty that I was assuming it could only be. Sure, BA was painful at times, but success there was nigh-impossible. And then there was the tricky issue of the anthrophobic nature of bullets in the source material; thankfully the movie seemed to remain true to the spirit of the series while nimbly sidestepping this particular point with some liberal use of artistic license. To give you an idea of my surprised enjoyment of this movie, I left the theater not only pondering but excitedly pondering what they might do with sequels. That alone is pretty friggin' impressive.

[Update] An Open Apology to Halle Berry

2010-07-22T23:11:00.000-07:00

Oh, Halle. I really did try: I reached out. I communicated. I did my best to give you fair warning. You have to admit, I was nothing if not patient.

I mean, if you had any intention to make an effort, my personalized engagement announcement should have been impetus enough for you. Oh sure, I'll admit that your competition hardly left you any hope at success, but that's no reason to throw in the towel before even setting foot in the ring. And yes, I've heard the "bait-and-switch" accusations, though it's a bit narcissistic to think that we decided to have a court marriage in advance of our wedding out of some twisted desire to hurt you. It just pains me to see you so bitter. So disrespectful of our long friendship. And, most of all, so dishonest to yourself.

However, just in case your heart hasn't been completely permeated by venom from your unfulfilled desires for us, I felt that you deserved to hear the whole story:

On the 30th of July of last year, we got married at San Francisco City Hall surrounded by our parents and my new sister. Oh, and Harvey Milk, of course. The ceremony was quite short, yes, but our families and even our marriage deputy still made the event incredibly warm, heart-felt and special. It was more than we had ever hoped it could be. And just like that, my life as a married man had begun.

And then, on the 15th of this May, we were married before 200 family and friends on the lawn of Oceano Hotel in Half Moon Bay. We celebrated with a Hindu ceremony - the perfect combination of beautiful culture, loving family, centuries of tradition, vibrant colors and a pinch of light-hearted humor to keep it all human. And oh would you have loved to see me all dressed up in my dhoti kurta! Such an occasion naturally warranted plenty of wonderful pre-wedding events with the family. Speaking of which...seriously, how many opportunities do you need for some grand romantic gesture??? I only hope that on some level you can be happy for us.

At this point I feel like I've done all I could for us. The future of our relationship is now solidly in your hands. So if our friendship still means anything at all to you...have your people RSVP with my sister-in-law for our anniversary party.

Best wishes,
Otto

I Confess, I'm Juicin'

2010-02-22T23:15:00.000-08:00

And not the "I can swim well-known landmarks while towing various nautical vessels" kind of juicin'. I'm talking about the "Watch out, Baseball Hall of Fame and inevitable tell-all book deal, here I come" variety. Well, sort of... It's actually for my nose. Maybe I should back up a bit?

So it turns out that I've got a moderate case of "the apneas". More specifically, obstructive sleep apnea or OSA¹. To save you a WebMD search, it's basically a condition where, as I sleep, my airway becomes blocked (or obstructed, I suppose you could say), causing me to stop breathing. Luckily our brains are programmed to, in such cases, force our bodies to wake up to restore normal breathing. So apparently these episodes, or apneas, occur about 15 times per hour for me. And this rate - which is also called my apnea-hypopnea index or AHI - is only considered to be moderate! Scary shit, huh?

Short term this means I'm never getting a proper night's sleep. Long term this could lead to a whole host of medical issues, such as high blood pressure, stroke, diabetes, cardiovascular disease...the list goes on.

Thankfully some friends and family had voiced their concerns (apparently it's quite freaky hearing someone stop breathing while they sleep...go figure!). Eventually I had a sleep study done², got diagnosed and am now doing nightly impressions of an aquaphobic scuba diver, courtesy of my very own continuous positive airway pressure (or CPAP!) machine. For those of you not up to date on your medical technology jargon, this device (not much more than a breathing mask attached to a small air pump) helps prevent my airway from getting obstructed while I sleep by pressurizing the air as I breathe. Oh, but don't worry, it also let's me exhale. Yup, they even thought of that!

I'm not gonna lie, though. It's not terribly fun or comfortable to wear and I doubt it shows up on many Top 10 Favorite Medical Treatment lists³. Other treatment options include a wide variety of surgical procedures, but they are highly dependent on what's causing the obstruction and they all have limited success rates, especially when you look long-term. There's also a list of recommended life-style changes, but those are more for treating mild cases. In the end if you want the sure-fire treatment, you gotta go CPAP. I'm still getting used to mine and while I don't suddenly feel like Nuclear Man (was that really his name??) after escaping from the moon/elevator trap in Superman IV, I am noticing a decrease in the frequency and intensity of daytime drowsiness.

Ah yes, and this finally brings me back to the 'roids. Along with the Vader starter kit, I've also been prescribed Flonase, an "intranasal corticosteroid" that is used to reduce irritation and inflammation of the nasal passages. Not only have I stopped waking up congested on a regular basis, but I also sneeze a whole lot less during the day. Roids rock! That's right, kids, just remember that steroids are your friend.

I do have one concern, however: just before I started my roid regimen, I apparently sneezed so hard that I managed to rupture a blood vessel in my eye. So now I'm thinking, what freakish House-eligible medical side effects have I set myself up for? Will I potentially share the fate of so many shih tzus and pekingese? Or should I play host to a potential steroids-based arms race as my eyes begin experimenting with synthetic stimulants just to compete with my eyes' performance enhancing drugs? Or I suppose I could realize that they're not THOSE kind of steroids and, even if they were, they would have to target the abdomen and diaphragm instead of the nasal passage. But that's sounding like a pretty damn elitist theory to me, so screw it, I'm replacing my tonsils with a fall-out shelter.

Anyways, before you go, I just wanted take a moment for a quick PSA: If you or a loved one snores heavily, seems to stop breathing for short periods at night and/or is often tired during the day, then get that person tested for sleep apnea! It could truly be a matter of life and death.

Duhn-duhn-duuuuhn!

¹This condition is also, like most things in the medical field, an acronymophiles playground.
²If you have the option, do the take-home version. The lab study provides them with more information, but the simple take-home device provides a surprising amount of critical data for them to make the diagnosis.
³Has Lettermen done this one yet?

Damn the radio gods!

2010-01-21T22:25:00.000-08:00

Let's ignore for a second the fact that The Eagles appear to have the same marketing team as the pomegranate industry. For how else could their atrocious, sub-Gipsy rendition of Hotel California be the most-played "classic" song on the radio? Or is that accusation a bit too wild(ly unsubstantiated) for ya? Fine. Case in point: while scanning the dial the last two days I've caught snippets of this paguan-damn song no less than three times. Case closed, yaar. Nonono, stop arguing...I said "case closed". The only (only!) other plausible explanation for this nigh-Homeric tragedy is that Carlos Helú is a life-long member of our Ottocratic nation while also being a silent cofounder of GlennFreyOnline.com. But back to ignoring this fact...

The only greater curse of the radio gods was their recent smiting of Energy 92.7. This was my bay area station. It was like Seattle's C89.5 (one of my Seattle-area stations, if you hadn't guessed), just replace the monotone teenage DJs with two hilarious guys, Fernando and Greg, that are also gay (unlike the intolerable token gay guy on another local station). This was the very first station I programmed into my very first car's presets. For almost three years it cheered me up each morning before arriving at my own personal Initech¹ - a place where, for those of you who do not know, my MBA-accredited boss, in some twisted form of encouragement, compared my rapid processing of clients to the strong work ethic of a good prostitute. I. Shit. You. Not.

So yes, this station meant a lot to me. And just as suddenly as it appeared on my dial between NPR and some mediocre Top 40 station, so was it suddenly perverted by some homophobic gorgon into yet another generic, Billboard-spewing siren. Since then, I've resisted the urge to reprogram my second preset (second to NPR numerically, not necessarily by preference). Instead, I've decided to keep it as a sort of dashboard memorial. A preset pyre, if you will.

The only possible silver lining is that I have since found Fernando and Greg exiled to another, but unfortunately more hip-hop friendly, station. And within the first quarter of my commute they are swallowed by static. Damn you, Charybdis of the radiowaves! Better yet, twenty minutes later my fierce friends' frequency is morphed into their own worst enemy: a bigoted Christian conservative oracle.

Apparently these radio gods are as malicious as Zeus, as vindictive as Poseidon. And all because I had the audacity to speak The Truth.

Bitches.

¹ No, I'm not providing a hyperlink on that one. If you didn't catch my reference, then your walk of shame is being forced to Google it on your own. LOSER!

Personal Checklist - GREs: Taken, Wedding Site/Date: Finalized, Mom: In India

2010-01-17T17:50:00.001-08:00

Man, it's been a while since my last post, huh? Sorry to all of my avid readers out there, but life (read: wedding planning and family¹) has become a little busier as of late. And for those of you that I might not have updated in a while, this post title may have been jam-packed - overflowing, even - with news for you. Let me address some of the questions that may have been engendered², starting with GREs:

1) Yes, I'm taking (or tooked³, rather) the GREs.
2) Yes, I'm actually (finally?⁴) applying to grad school.
3) Good question. Originally I was looking at a few, including Cal and MIT. In the end, I only found a program worth applying to at MIT.
4) I submitted my application in early December and I just received notice that they have all of my application materials. There was, however, a couple-day scare where it seemed that they had lost two of my letters of recommendation.
5) In general, building science. More specifically? Low-rise residential. Even more specifically? The building envelope. What, even more more specifically? Well then, I guess I would have to say the thermal performance of the building envelope, and if you want more specific than that then we'll have to take this offline.

Now that all of that is cleared up, on to me bitching about the verbal portion of the GREs!

Seriously, though, how do you even justify that: junior high level math versus college+ level vocab? Who was the human scales on this one, weighing the tests in either hand and coming to the conclusion "yup, that feels just about equal"? Oh wait, I've got it. Probably this guy. So I guess I have him to blame for my mediocre verbal score. And, I suppose, for my nice quantitative one, too... Maybe I'll just call it even.

Then in mid-December my partner and I drove to Half Moon Bay to sign the contract on our wedding venue and catering. Man does it ever feel good to have that taken care of! While we had basically been operating under a verbal agreement for a few weeks, the event coordinator at the hotel was very reassuring. So I suppose finally having the ink dry was more of an Armstrongian⁵ step in the process. On top of that, we were also able to do an initial tasting for the food the hotel will provide. Oh great, now I'm going to be craving that salad and pasta all night. Gee. Thanks. Thanks for making me talk about that mouth-watering salad and possibly-addictive pasta! Gah, just stop it!

Moving along, we've also had a couple tastings with the Indian caterer. The first tasting was a bit concerning, as we didn't really love any of it. He kept reassuring us that he just needed our feedback so he could gauge what style and tastes we were looking for. There are probably as many styles as there are Indian aunties' kitchens, so we decided we would believe it when we tasted it. Our second tasting crushed these trepidations. Delicious! Sure, there are still some items that we need to try out or finalize with each vendor, but we're excited about the majority of the menu.

Speaking of Indian food, my mom is getting to taste it first-hand! Or is that first-tongue? Well, either way, the point is that she's in India. For the first time, too. But I know she's in good hands, as I sent her with the tour group service I used on my trips: my partner and her mom. While we're only just beginning to hear stories, one thing is for certain: the phrase "I'm hungry" will not even come close to entering my mom's mind for the next couple weeks.

¹ Heh, at first I had those two reversed. That would definitely have generated some other questions. To be clear though: no!
² No, that wasn't a GRE word. Well, actually I guess it was, but what I mean is that I knew it before studying for the GREs.
³ Also not a GRE word, but for other reasons.
⁴ Don’t worry. I am being bombarded by the intense thoughts of "ABOUT DAMN TIME!" from everyone reading this.
⁵ If you're confused, I'm referring to Neil, not Lance.

Battle of the Bands...¡Edición Española!

2009-10-01T22:17:00.000-07:00

Two nights only. GK vs. RYG. Mano a mano. Guitarra a guita...wait, WHAT? No. I did NOT mean Genghis Khan vs. Ruth Yannatta Goldway. Damnit, that doesn't even make any sense! First off, while I'm no history buff, I'm fairly certain that Khan's escapades across Asia weren't actually a promotion tour for his Greatest Hits album. On top of that, while everyone knows Ruth for her key role in the establishment of the "forever stamp" (AND she practically starred in the movie Dave?!? What hasn't this woman done??), you have to admit that none of that does much to beef up her Spanish-speaking credentials¹.

And, for the love of all that is good and holy, if you even remotely considered the possibility that I meant to say Starfleet officer George Kirk versus the Rygge Airbase in Norway, then please refrain from talking. Forever. If that's not too much to ask.

Well this is just great: now I can't even remember what I was talking about. See what you've done by simply thinking those intelligence-free thoughts? Oh wait, I've got it! I was telling you about the lucha de los grupos I recently witnessed: Gipsy Kings versus Rodrigo y Gabriela! While not officially a WWE-sanctioned "Hell in a Cell" match, my partner and I went to a concert for each group exactly two weeks apart from each other and couldn't help but pit them against each other. And now I intend to break down the results for you, whether or not you mind.

Venue
Location can have a surprisingly significant impact on the quality of the performance. No matter how much a band is rockin' it on stage, if the venue sucks, so may their performance. I will be comparing the venues in the alphabetical categories of Ambiance, Bathrooms, Seating and Sound System.

Ambiance
The Gipsy Kings concert was at the Marin Veterans' Memorial Auditorium, part of the Marin County Civic Center - Frank Lloyd Wright's final commission. The first thing I thought of as I sat down in my teal-colored seat was that this felt a lot like a glorified high-school auditorium from the 70s. Seeing as it was designed in the late 50s, I suppose that means it must have felt pretty futuristic when it was originally completed. Sadly, though, the original wooden 'Exit' signs are now crowned with generic, plastic, current-fire-code-compliant ones.

The recently-restored Fox Oakland Theater was host to Rodrigo y Gabriela. The outside had a Middle Eastern facade shadowed by the old-school cinema blade sign and marquee. Inside the theater (once again seated in the nose-bleeds), it felt like a grand Moroccan mansion had been turned inside out to envelope the crowd. The ceiling design, accentuated with a variety of different-colored lights throughout the evening, reminded me of patterns I had seen throughout in India (specifically in Fatehpur Sikri). Guarding the stage were two, multi-story golden idols with glowing white eyes and, as far as I could tell, red 'Weak Point' indicators² on their chests. A stunningly beautiful venue for sure!
Final Verdict: Point to RyG

Bathrooms
After I passed through the door to the men's room at the Fox Theater, I had a moment of panic as I realized I had somehow ended up in the women's room. Not good. Well, it turns out I was in the men's room, it just had something that I thought was exclusive to women's rooms: a foyer. Or waiting room. Or whatever they're called within the lavatory industry. I've just never encountered one before. I have always heard tales of these "rooms leading to the bathroom" that are filled with couches, though I've never understood why you would need a couch-filled room between the hallway and the bathroom. And now that I mention it, I still don't understand why you would need a couch-filled room between the hallway and the bathroom. All I know is that this must mean that I had encountered a pretty damn shi-shi bathroom.

I confess that I did not experience the bathrooms at the Marin Auditorium, but if FLW's track record with plumbing holds true, I'm fairly certain that is for the best.
Final Verdict: RyG is at it again

Seating
I've already mentioned the teal-blue seats for the Gipsy Kings. While not the prettiest things to come out of the 70s, they were sufficiently comfortable.

The seating at the Fox, on the other hand, was a bit uncomfortable (though I should remind the reader that we were in the cheap seats here, so this review may not be representative of other sections of the theater). The seats themselves were fine. It was the rows that I had a problem with. They were just too damn narrow. And neither of us demand all that much in the way of leg room, either. So I couldn't imagine what the night must have been like for anyone even a fraction of a standard deviation larger than myself. That's when I noticed the man to my right, who can sleep soundly in the knowledge that he is by no means anorexic. Then there was the guy in front of me; it should be safe to say that he isn't turned away from any carnival rides, even if you folded him in half. I have no idea how either of these poor souls survived this concert, knees and legs intact. Luckily they served booze, which you could bring to your seats. So maybe - like 'hydrogen bonding' on the AP Chem test - alcohol was the solution to yet another problem.
Final Verdict: And with that, GK gets on the board!

Sound System
Probably the most important aspect of a venue for a concert (after bathrooms, of course) would be the acoustics and the sound system. Overall the Fox was great. There were, however, two or three times where my ears tried telling me that it was a bit too loud; unfortunately I couldn't hear their Mr. Wilson-like cries over the amplified rhythms.

Apparently to coordinate with the visual ambiance, the Auditorium seemed to be equipped with a high school-quality sound system. The vocals were largely indecipherable and the music was washed out almost as if we were listening to it through a wall. There was a lot of shouting off-stage at the beginning, most of which I'm assuming was directed at the sound guy(s), but this seemed to do little to improve the situation. There were even a couple moments of audio feedback, the true sign of professionalism!
Final Verdict: So long for GK's win streak...

Performance
The only thing that might top the venue in terms of impacting the quality of the performance would be the quality of the actual performance. Therefore, we're going into Double Jeopardy territory with this one, folks, where the scores are twice as nice as before! This time the non-alphabetical categories are Opening Act, Performance Energy and Crowd Interaction.

Opening Act
I don't know how responsible bands typically are for such things, but they've gotta be at least a little to blame if their opener deserves to get booed off stage. Speaking of which: RyG chose...poorly. While my fellow judge seemed to extract some entertainment from this stone, I couldn't wait for his set to finish. After staying well past his welcome, we figured it would only be a short intermission until our ears were treated to actual, enjoyable music. Plus they practically had everything (read: basically two chairs, a few mikes, some speakers and four or five small video cameras) set up before the opener even got on stage, so it's not like that should add any time to the intermission. Yet more than a half an hour and a couple false alarms later, our excitement was only just being reinvigorated by the dimming of the lights.

The Gipsy Kings had no opening act. In retrospect, this was a wise decision.
Final Verdict: And the pendulum swings back to GK

Performance Energy
When we thought "Gipsy Kings", we were thinking "hot, Latin music"³. What we witnessed had more of a "wax museum" vibe to it. I can't imagine that this deer-in-headlights stage presence was due to the intimidating size of the crowd; I figure they've seen larger. Or the impressively retro decor; I figure they've seen retro-er. It really felt like they were burned out after a long tour (and their tour schedule indicates that they were at least on the home stretch of this one) and were simply trying to stay standing long enough to coast through the finish line. During one song I believe I saw a couple of the band members on the side start to dance a little, but that died down after a minute or two. The only real signs of life came towards the end of their set when they did this jam-session number; it finally felt like they were not annoyed for having to perform for us. Too bad this didn't achieve "better late than never" status, but instead stumbled into the "too little too late" hazard.

Their competition put them to shame. Rodrigo couldn't seem to stay in one place for a whole song and watching Gabriela transforming her guitar, in a blur of wrists and fingers, into an entire band's worth of instruments was absolutely mesmerizing. Beyond all reason, they only seemed to become MORE energized as the night went on; meanwhile we were still trying to ascertain how their bodies - not to mention their wrists! - had not yet collapsed. Also, live feeds from the video cameras placed around the stage would sometimes be displayed in black and white on a sheet behind them, which managed to exhibit constructive interference with the energy from their live performance instead of distracting from it. Oh, and it was absolutely adorable watching Gabriela seamlessly ping-pong between cute "punk rock girl" hops and full-force headbanging.
Final Verdict: Speaking of ping-pong, it looks like we've got a pretty good rally going here, as RyG just struck back. I hope your necks are holding up alright!

Crowd Interaction
I think this was pretty much covered for the Gipsy Kings in the previous category. And that wall it felt like we were listening through? Apparently that was the fourth wall. Between a few of their songs, they mumbled fairly incomprehensible phrases at the crowd (and not because it was in Spanish; go back to Sound System above for more info). The little I did understand felt like boilerplate soundbites. The only other moment, really, was during the jam session: a couple of the musicians took their turn in the spotlight to Simon with the crowd. It was kinda fun, but really boiled down to more "too little too late".

At first I felt that RyG might be going down this same road. Soon enough I was proven wrong. They talked with us about their tour, discussed the inspiration for their upcoming album and at one point encouraged, neh, practically demanded that we shout out some requests. When they eventually thanked the crowd, it felt sincere: they appreciated our excitement and energy and reciprocated with a kick-ass show.
Final Verdict: And RyG finishes by breaking GK's serve!

Final Score:
Gipsy Kings: 3
Rodrigo y Gabriela: 7

----

Dear Gipsy Kings,

If you had actually played the one song I drove two hours each way to hear (and it's not as if I was trying to keep it a secret!), then I might have been saying this about you: Everyone reading this needs to buy Rodrigo y Gabriela's albums! I can definitely recommend their self-titled album, and their new album is definitely worth a demo listen.

Love and Kisses,
The Ottocracy

¹ Her credentials as a fluent speaker of the Spanish language, not her credentials that somehow have learned to speak Spanish.
² I suppose they were installed as a forethought by their designers in case these statues somehow became animate and started attacking the audience.
³ A little shout-out for my dad, there, and his favorite Cannon Beach band: Conjunto Alegre!

The Goods is The Really Bads

2009-09-03T21:54:00.000-07:00

DON'T SEE THIS MOVIE!

I would apologize for the caps, but I feel that in this particular situation the ends really do justify the means. I simply cannot believe how horrible this movie was and I feel honor-bound to prevent any of my readers and/or loved ones from experiencing this travesty in sheep's clothing. If you still go to this movie after reading this review, then I cannot be held accountable if this happens to you.

My mind cannot fathom how the ratio between the movie and the sum if it's parts was so close to zero. The cast was fantastic, the previews seemed promising, the premise lead me to believe there was sufficient room for much comedic shenanigans. And yet...the actual movie blew chunks. And not the comedic form of chunk blowage either. No no, these chunks were the real, theater-clearing deal. Unfortunately I think the crowd was paralyzed in horror. We found ourselves unable to obey the screaming voices in our heads and run to the nearest exit, leaping over or tossing aside any impediments - whether they be chairs or grandmothers - that might delay our evacuation from this torture chamber by even fractions of a precious second. Nothing else could possibly explain why any seats remained occupied after the first five minutes.

As for the short list of "best lines", they were fairly well spoiled by the trailers; and then on the big screen, nestled inside this crap-sandwich, they felt extremely watered-down. Or, rather, crapped-down I suppose. We did laugh a few times, but it was so strained I can't really count them. We were simply starving for the humor for which we had come (and paid!). We started forcing out chuckles at the slightest glimpse of humor-like shapes flashing in our periphery. Sometimes we would utilize a sort of comedy X-ray vision whereby we would ignore the deformed husk presented to us and look into the core of its being, at the underlying potential humor, at the skeleton system of the joke. By the end I think we were laughing in the absurd, desperate hope that the movie - a notably inanimate object - would somehow hear our manufactured guffaws, mistake them for legitimate ones and thereby muster up enough confidence to get out of this 85-minute slump for a grand finale.

Nope.

The characters themselves amounted to little more than punchline-filled piñatas in the form of various single-faceted stereotypes. And when the director wanted to really knock us dead? Well, for that they would start by throwing a string of cliché right jabs and then suddenly, "out of nowhere", would come the counter-characteristic left hook punchline. Huzzah! Totally didn't see that coming.

Now if they had tried to stick with these over-the-top caricatures - a method that has many solid examples of success in the entertainment world (For reference, please see: Arrested Development, News Radio, Anchorman, Dodgeball, etc.) - then I imagine that I would have eventually become numb to the pain of their utterly failed usage of this mechanic. Unfortunately they were apparently not satisfied with failing on just one approach. Soon they tried to cram what appeared to be non-sarcastic dramatic storylines down our throats, culminating in what I've been told was a love story. I romance second only to those created by George Lucas. Thankfully my mind's survival instincts kicked in and forced my body into a coma until the credits rolled.

I just can't figure out who's to blame. Did the actors fail to deliver what the writers had carefully crafted? Or was the movie DOA before the big names even stepped foot on the set? And how did nobody with the power to kill this movie pull that lever or push that button?

Actually, you know what? I just don't care. Everyone involved should be ashamed, embarrassed and/or guilt-ridden. Even the key grip. I don't know that they could have done...but they could have done something! So if anyone catches wind of The Goods 2 or The Gooders even being bandied about casually in Hollywood, let me know. I'll get out my torch and pitchfork.

One last thing: DON'T SEE THIS MOVIE!

PS: Suck on that Tiber: two posts within two weeks!!

Shadow Complex's Card-Carrying Conundrum

2009-08-27T22:45:00.000-07:00

Let's be clear: if I had a 360 right now, I would own Shadow Complex. I would have bought it as soon as it was available and then immediately become couch-ridden with a serious, um, "stomach flu". Damn you, "stomach flu"! Two days later I would have peeled myself off the couch, possibly coming across this article in my post-stasis rehabilitation. A smattering of colorful expletives would have then uncontrollably slipped from my mouth as I finally rounded the corner at which this gut-punch had been waiting, quite patiently, for me. Or, rather, this hypothetical me.

Luckily I don't even own a 360¹ (take THAT you damn gut-punch-harboring corner!), so this theoretical scenario has not transpired; rather I can safely consider this moral debate from the sidelines instead of as a very uncomfortable afterthought. Reading that article, my mind flip-flopped a couple times. And then I few more times as I combed through some of the surprisingly coherent, thoughtful comments - the type of comments you never expect to see in such public forums, let alone strung together as if in a semi-formal debate².

So what is the correct approach? Is it appropriate/effective to boycott a product because of the publicly-stated beliefs and/or actions of individual(s) responsible for the product? How responsible do the individuals have to be for this to be an appropriate course of action? How public do the beliefs/actions in question have to be? How reprehensible do these beliefs/actions have to be? Is there a difference between something globally reprehensible (let's say, for example, drop kicking live bunnies and then finishing them off a la skeet shooting) and something that's considered reprehensible on an individual basis (let's say, supporting pro-choice movements)? And are there reasonable alternatives to boycotts?

This issue first came up for me back when I was reading OSC's Ender series. This avenue of entertainment came to an abrupt halt for me when one of my better-informed friends enlightened me as to some of Card's thoughts on "the gays". And I really enjoyed the series when I was reading them, but it was forever tainted for me. To be honest, though, it wasn't a huge loss eliminating the series from my field of vision: it wasn't my favorite series ever, and I had plenty of others to tide me over (especially if you include the dictionary-dwarfing tombs that this same friend constantly adds to my reading list)³. Nevertheless, it was my first truly conscious stance in this portion of the moral arena.

More recently, a close friend of mine talked with me about another example from a fairly different field: the hotel industry. Apparently their company was forming a boycott against a major hotel chain because ~~one of the hotel's senior managers(?)~~ the hotel owner had used his own money to support the Yes on 8 campaign in California (i.e., for those of you have managed to dodge all mention of this issue, he put money towards the elimination of gay marriage rights in California). Pretty much right away I was uncomfortable with this justification for a boycott. I'm not saying it was "wrong"; I just wasn't ready to support it, even though I am roughly 180^o away from this manager's apparent views on gay marriage and, more broadly, LGBTQ rights. So I strongly disagree with this individual's actions, but they did it on their own, with their own money, not as a representative of the hotel. And yes, the money he used likely came from his hotel salary, but what responsibility does the hotel have with how their employees use that money? What obligation does the hotel have to research and judge the beliefs and actions of their employees, especially if they don't impact the operations or practices of the hotel? To me this boycott felt like a disproportionate and, more importantly, quite misdirected response.

And then came along Shadow Complex. A game that I would love to play: because it strikes so close to the soul of my favorite console game of all time, Symphony of the Night. A game that I would love to see succeed: in the hopes that there would be more entries into this beautiful, beautiful genre (*cough* sidescrollingCastlevaniaonthePS3 *cough*). But wait, I almost forget...it's also, to some unclear degree, connected to Hitler. No...no, wait...I meant OSC⁴. Well shit! NOW what am I supposed to think?

I wanted to resolve this dilemma, but I realized that I first needed to set some ground rules or risk going in circles until my mind gave up and forced a system shutdown. Any resolution I came to needed to follow these three conditions:
1. It should be as cut-and-dry as possible, resembling a bold line in the sand, not a sinusoidal curve or complex wave function.
2. It need only satisfy my dilemma with the situation, though it wouldn't hurt if it was applicable for others, too.
3. If the tables were turned, I need to be able to respect others applying this same logic on me or those similar to me.

After much personal deliberation and discussion with my partner⁵, I was able to settle on a method to resolve such situations that seemed to strike a balance between fighting for what I thought was right and respecting the rights of others to live and think differently than myself. Basically if an entity (NOT its individual employees or staff) publicly supports a cause I'm opposed to, develops a product that promotes or represents something I'm against or performs actions I believe are wrong, then I will be ready and willing to boycott their products or services.

So if the hotel chain itself donated money to the Yes on 8 campaign or if OSC personally funded and produced the game (or if the game had anti-gay themes or messages), then, yes, where do I sign for the boycott? The entity made the choice to promote this cause or perform this action, and they therefore exposed themselves to potential backlash. In the case of the Ender series, I believe OSC would be the "entity" in the example, so my original boycott holds. But punishing a company just to silence even a single person on their payroll...that just feels like an extremely slippery slope⁶ (not to mention how many ways I can see it violating Condition #3; just imagine if Rush Limbaugh or Glenn Beck were allowed to wield such power!). If not boycotts, what about something along the lines of a widespread letter campaign to get that person fired (or, in the case of consultants or contract workers, prevent them from being hired for more work)? That approach surely would resolve the "misdirected" issue. But here comes Condition #3 again to bite that one in the ass: if anyone could be taken down by mob rule simply for opposing their beliefs, couldn't that just thrust "don't ask, don't tell" into the business world and expand it beyond sexual orientation (which is already bad enough)? Sure, that might be a bit over-dramatic, but you have to admit it's not completely unfounded.

So unfortunately, under my current system, I could still be left with a bad taste in my mouth in certain circumstances. For example, I would probably still feel guilty about buying Shadow Complex. In other words, so far my system has fixed a big crack in the dam, but subsequently has revealed another, unaddressed leak. But I've got some quick-dry cement for that, too: if I still feel bad about paying money for something, a fraction of which will go to someone who could use a fraction of it to support a cause I'm against, then my best course of action is to counter their actions by putting money towards my cause. So instead of expending my efforts to try to silence them, put my efforts instead towards promoting my cause. If I put $20 towards a product with OSC-resembling strings attached, then I'll put $20 towards the No on 8 campaign. Sure, that second $20 might be a bit overkill, but it's easier than trying to develop some dilution factor to account for how much of the original $20 would likely go towards the Yes on 8 campaign. Not a perfect system. Sort of a genetic cross-breed between cap-and-trade and good ol' indulgences (but with fewer corrupt priests). A "moral offset" system, if you will.

I don't claim that this is a perfect resolution, but I'm feeling pretty good about it. I guess I'm pretty much leaving myself open for you to point out all the counter-examples of why it won't work. Have at it, I say. For I'm going to be too busy praying for Shadow Complex to come out on the PSN to listen.

¹ "...let alone many 360s that would necessitate an entire rack. What am I gonna do...with a 360-rack?" Sorry, couldn't resist.
² Though probably much of this uncharacteristic lack of trolling was due to Kotaku's new comment filtering system. I wasn't a huge fan when they first rolled it out, but in this instance I can only imagine that it must be working in overdrive. And I appreciate that.
³ Actually I can't remember if my brother or this friend was to blame for Cryptonomicon's presence on my literary radar. Either way, it turns out that this is a good frackin' book, as evidenced by the fact that I made fairly short work of it in spite of my snails-pace reading speed. Additionally, while I'm concerned about the potential implications of receiving Amazon's antithetically shallow 'Key Phrase' of "stupendous badass" (a phrase I was not previously aware of as a key sorting criterion for Amazon), I fully agree with its underlying assertion about this novel. Then again, my micro-review included a pseudo-swear word from a SciFi reboot of a late 70s science fiction franchise, so who am I to judge?
⁴ Look, mommy, I can use sophomoric hyperbole just like the cable news pundits or even the anchors on Fox News!
⁵ And thank you to Macaroni Grill for the brain food in the form of your deliciously warm focaccia bread with oil and balsamic vinegar. SO GOOD!
⁶ I don't know about you all, but whenever I hear the term "slippery slope", it always makes me think of this Oscar-worthy clip.

Splintered Sell: The Future of Epic Game Franchise?

2009-07-08T22:26:00.000-07:00

Is it just me or are the FF and MGS series¹ turning into out-of-control, money-grabbing, over-marketed brands? I've been quite loyal to each since the SNES and PS days (respectively)², with just a little skip past Crystal Chronicles and some of the hand-held iterations.³ Yet now I find myself so lost on which games are being released when for which systems and what the differences are that my eyes are glazing over. This could eventually lead to apathy on par with my complete and utter disinterest towards all things Guitar Hero/Rock Band/DJ Hero/SingStar/etc.

There are, what, like six new FFs in production right now? And it seems like a new MGS game, expansion or port is announced every few months. This shotgun-like approach to development for these series continues to feel less like how Mario's core games survived, by some miracle, relatively unscathed even as his image was being mindlessly crammed into every other conceivable genre. Instead I'm being reminded more and more of Sonic's rendition of the Big Freeze.

I'm not sure of specific dates, but this sectification seemed to have occurred at roughly the same time for both IPs. Maybe these grand behemoths are simply realizing that it is increasingly unsustainable to follow the one-at-a-time pace of the past. Instead they're being forced to find ways to span these gaps by releasing their own versions of Pokemon Silver, Gold, Emerald and WhateverotherpreciousmaterialsNintendocomesupwith. Is the cost of producing epic-level series on the current-gen systems instigating this change? Or is it the fault of the sudden proliferation of simultaneously successful gaming platforms along with the impressive diversification of the gamer world? Has the video game market been transformed from a single, dedicated, monolithic demographic with a limited set of orthogonal tastes into a hyper-faceted, fractal-like polygon with ADHD and a growing resistance to Ritalin?

Maybe what we're starting to see is just the inevitable evolution of these industry juggernauts under the current market conditions. Or maybe I don't know what the hell I'm talking about. But I guess as long as they continue to put out high-quality core games the rest of their sub-par offerings can be forgiven as necessary symbiotes to keep the primary entity viable. Well, at least as long as the relationship stays mutualistic and the splinters don't turn parasitic.⁴

¹ That's 'Final Fantasy' and 'Metal Gear Solid', for you non-gamer nerds.
² Oh my god, you can't be serious...put down the book and pick up a friggin' controller! But you asked, so here's the answer: that's Super Nintendo (Entertainment System) and Playstation.
³ So I'm sure some of you readers could easily trace your FF and/or MGS fanhood origins further back than this, but I don't care because this article is about me and my concerns. So stop trying to impress the teacher and get back to reading.
⁴ I started with gamer-speak and now I close with a bio/envi-sci analogy. Something for everyone!

Happy...Father's Day?

2009-06-20T20:21:00.000-07:00

I think I was reading some news online when I saw the ad that accompanies this post. Does anything strike you as being a bit strange about it? Well, for me it simultaneously triggered two entirely separate reactions¹ that promptly T-boned each other (even I'm not sure how they managed to pull that off) on their rush to the front of my mind. Once the dust settled from this mental pile-up (it was like the aftermath of two Slinkies attempting to mate), I was eventually able to unscramble the two from each other and process them individually.

On the one hand, it struck me that they may have wanted to double-check their choice of model for the Father's Day ads. Sure, I understand that in the marketing world "sex sells" can be a influential concept. But there are limits. Right? This just felt odd in the way that it would be odd to see a Big and Tall store with female mannequins. I mean, I was seriously concerned about what they seemed to be implying about how their products will make my dad look/feel. And while we are living in a day and age where labels such as "father" are being occupied by an ever-diversifying group, I'm simply saying that the market they appear to be targeting may be a bit more "nichey" than the market they think they're targeting.

Meanwhile, at a synapse just around the neuron: "Wait...what-exactly-are-they-selling-here?" Call me old fashioned, but I just don't think that that would be considered a good idea for a Father's Day gift. At least I'm pretty damn sure mother might have a problem with it. And nowhere does it say "sexy model not included" or "athletic female torso sold separately".

So now I don't know WHAT to think. Are they suggesting my dad would look good in a sports bra? Or possibly they're just some front for a Russian mail order bride service? Or maybe Cosmo and Frank's 'Bro' has found a real-world manufacturer...that has partnered with an online canteen store? Whatever the case may be, I'm sure as hell not buying their supposed "canteens".

¹ Though both could be filed under "Who are the ad wizards that came up with this one?".²
² Anyone remember where that was from? Well, unfortunately I couldn't find a video clip of it, but here's a transcript. I've only been able to find a crappy high-school remake that isn't even worth mentioning but I seem to have gone and done so anyways. Let me know if you find the actual clip floating around on the internets!

An Open Apology to Halle Berry

2009-05-17T19:14:00.000-07:00

Dear Halle Berry,

While I have been well aware of the rumors that you have "had a thing" for me since the late '90s, the sands of time have relentlessly continued their downward journey and I fear that I must break some bad news to you: I recently received an incredible offer that I could not pass up and...this is so hard to tell you...I...I am now engaged to the most amazing woman I've ever met. Your cinematic flirtations, while quite heart-felt, were just not able to sustain me. It seems that I am a man that needs more direct action. I just hope that you can take some solace in the fact that your not-so-subtle advances via the silver screen did not go unnoticed.

Honestly, it has been very flattering to see you shape your Hollywood career around my personal interests in an effort to express your feelings for me. For starters, the X-Men series definitely went in the 'Win' column, but I'm even more impressed that you had the foresight to pick Storm even though you must have known that she was second on my list of "Xavier's Hottest Hotties" after Jubilee¹. Your roll of the dice was rewarded as Storm gave you significant screen time while Jubilee's role was relegated almost entirely to "bonus disc" material.

However, I don't believe this was actually your first move towards my theatrical field of vision. To find that first glance my way, we would have to step back a few years to your role in Executive Decision. My well-established penchant for action flicks made this another safe bet for you. And the humor value of having action super-star Steven ~~Seagull~~ Seagal killed within the first few minutes made this one a must for me, even in spite of Kurt Russel's presence. You helped kick some terr'r'st ass and you didn't look half bad in that uniform, so I would say job well done.

Technically one could even suggest tracking your desirous pursuits a little further back to The Last Boyscout, but I'm not sure a role as a stripper would have impressed up me (either then-me or now-me) that this was someone I should look to for a lasting relationship. So if it's all the same to you, I'm going to ignore this film for the purposes of this suitorial summary. Though it did star Bruce Willis...wait, no, stick to your guns, Otto.

So let's push things forward in time again, to Swordfish. Hot diggidy daffodil was that ever a sexy role for you! And that horticulture-friendly rating didn't even include your...let's say "anatomical cameo". Which I appreciated, don't get me wrong! But you might have wanted to consider broadcasting such an intimate message to a more select audience (i.e. me and, time allowing, only me!); which is why I at one point considered giving this film a net zero effect.² Only considered, that is! But who was I kidding, I can't stay mad at you!

This was quickly followed by Die Another Die, where you demonstrated that sexiness and uselessness don't have to share a proportional relationship for Bond Girls. And you did this while being "just slightly" more believable than Denise Richards as a nuclear physicist (not to say that beautiful woman can't also be highly intelligent...it's just that with Denise I wasn't buying it). This wasn't necessarily the most interesting role for you, but at least you knew I would be watching.

Then...there's Catwoman. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, Catwoman. No other decision of yours so lucidly demonstrated your limitless desire for me as did your willingness to risk your entire acting career by not just acting in, but starring in, the hands-down worst big-budget comic book movie of all time.³ I mean, there are some pretty lame origin stories out there, but your arch-enemy ODing on defective cosmetics causing her skin to become tough and unable to feel pain, which they somehow then contorted into meaning sufficiently enhanced strength and agility for her to stand toe-to-toe with Catwoman? First off, I don't think "not being able to feel pain" is what they think it means: not feeling pain doesn't change the fact that your arm was just broken in ten different places; either way you are going to have a distinct disadvantage at Twister. I could go on, but seriously...what would you expect for the rest of the movie after hearing that? Or, as one of the worst stand-up comics of our time (I felt that was sort of staying with the theme...) would say, "There's yer sign!" Ugh, it even hurts to type that. And at this point I'm just going to assume that that goddamn lobotomy-inducing quote is relevant because I would fear for my sanity if I attempted to appreciate its actual meaning (assuming, once again, that my suspicions are false and it isn't in fact complete gibberish). Anyways, I have to admit that this choice of "acting" opportunities was slightly bolder than it was stupid, and I feel that it is only right to credit you with the difference. Plus there was that very tasteful leather number you wore. Oh, and then to top it off you had the balls to actually accept the 2004 Razzie for worst actress...in person. MAJOR kudos for that scale of self-deprecation!⁴

This was, however, not my sole source of concern for what I have been doing to you. I apparently had become so distracting to you that you actually missed a meeting with the Wachowskis, causing them to instead go with Jada Pinkett Smith. Or at least that's what I assume had happened because you can't tell me that Gothika was too good to pass up. Not to mention that that isn't even a genre I frequent, a fact you must have known by that time. See what I'm saying? It just doesn't add up. Oh sure, there was X2, which you knew I was totally going to see...but that still doesn't explain why you had time for Gothika and not Reloaded!

That definitely had me worried, but you didn't lose me there. No quite, at least. However, I think I can identify the last straw, the reason I was no longer able to wait for you to show up at my doorstep with a cat toy for Tippy and copies of Army of Darkness and Serenity in one hand and a bottle of Hangar One in the other: How is it womanly possible to grace the Stewart wannabes known as Letterman and Leno a combined total of ten times while only appearing on The Daily Show once? Only once! And don't try to tell me that John wasn't constantly trying to book an Academy Award winning goddess such as yourself. Only one time on The Daily Show?!? Come on! If that man asked me to mow his lawn, I would gladly fly myself out to do it. And you couldn't even be bothered with squeezing in a repeat visit on his show? That, Halle, was a mistake.

However, it would be terribly rude of me to leave you on such a harsh note, even if it is constructive criticism, so I wanted to take these final moments to thank you once again for your unrelenting dedication to capturing my attention, while simultaneously maintaining your sexinessitude. You will always have a special place in my (movie collection) heart. So, I guess what I'm trying to say is...keep on truckin'.

But seriously, only once!!?

¹ Sorry, Rogue, but physical contact is a must. Repeated physical contact, that is (and, to be clear, I'm not into being the necrophilee). Just once isn't worth it and I'm no Magneto. Plus they totally neutered your character in the movies.
² Speaking of which, you should really go and rent Zero Effect some time.
³ Unless, that is, the assholes responsible for The Neon Travesty (a.k.a. Batman and Robin) are ever again given the keys to anything closer to a superhero/comic book movie than a Doritos commercial.
⁴ Woops, I almost typed "self-defecation" instead. That likely would have earned you negative kudos. Unless you're a follower of "no publicity is bad publicity".

Hypermiling and Me: Part 1

2009-04-05T21:40:00.000-07:00

If you've given my site more than a cursory glance, you may have noticed the digital MPG ticker¹ a couple screens down on the right. As you may have guessed, this decal is only a small indication of my obsession with fuel efficiency.

Since I've owned my own car, I've always kept tabs on my gas mileage. While Fluff, my first car, was lucky to have a functioning fuel gauge (God bless him), I still calculated average miles per gallon for each tank (thank you, cell phone calculator!²). And now Scoot, with his instantaneous mileage indicator and two separate trip mileage counters, I'm obsessed with beating my high score. Seriously obsessed. Like I'm pretty sure this disease could be written up in The American Journal of Medicine. But I'm gonna let it go untreated, so if you're a passenger in my car, then you can either complain when I drive 55 (hey, that rhymes!) or you can continue not "riding depth charge"³.

So I'm always trying to improve my mileage, but the self-taught learning curve has plateaued recently. Therefore I decided to check the Googles to see what tips might be out there. I skipped the one suggestion that I remove the fuse for the daytime running lights. Let me know if this was a mistake. Anyways, there was one that caught my eye as having the triple threat of feasibility, acceptability and potential. The suggestion was to pressurize your tires to the listing on the tire sidewall instead of what is written in the car manual or on the doorframe. This sounded intriguing, but I decided to dig a little deeper before jumping in. Opinions were split, to say the least. Some sites indicated that pressurizing to the tire listing (which is the maximum rated pressure for the tire, a fair point to be aware of) could lead to failures so catastrophic that not only would your tires blow out, but so would ANY tires within a two mile radius. The other end of the spectrum lead me to believe that using the tire listing may cause Scoot to actually generate gasoline.

In the end I decided it was worth the risk (after all, the police do it). Though I decided to play it a bit safe, not jump directly into the deep end (or the deep deep end, as some suggested pressurizing to above the tire pressure): Scoot's doorframe said 32 psi and the tire sidewall said 44 psi (I was not expecting anywhere near a 37.5% difference!), so I went with 40 psi.

That was about a week ago. I'm happy to report the following:

I've experienced an average rate of elastomeric rupture of zero point zero per day;
The ride doesn't feel too loud or too rough;
Scoot seems to handle as good as ever;
And so far I've noticed (anecdotally) an improvement in mileage of a few miles per gallon.

Sure, I admit that an increase of 2-3 mpg isn't exactly reattaching any Antarctic ice shelves. However, when I'm doing a little happy dance - while driving, mind you - over increases of mere tenths of mpg, leaping ahead full digits feels like a full-on dance party. Anyways, I will continue to gather data and see if I can get back to you Ottocrats with more quantified and substantiated results. Wish me (and all nearby tires) luck.

PS: Yet again I was a bit torn about which image to go with for the post. My very close second was none other than Queen.

¹ Modeled, intentionally, after the sweet Civic dashboard.
² Don't worry, I did my homework, this was safe.
³ Similar to "riding shotgun", but this one involves the trunk.

Wicked: From my very limited 'Theater Review' collection

2009-03-30T22:10:00.000-07:00

Now, I'm not one of those East Coast, Ivy League, intellectual, elitist theater-lovers. To be completely honest, I'm not even much of a theater lover. On top of that, junior high school bred in me a healthy distaste for the musical. So if that's the not flavor of review you are looking for, then you must be lost.

I'd heard nothing but rave reviews about this show and when one of my former roommates asked if we (my girlfriend and I, that is) wanted to stop listening to reviews and make some of our own. Odd how listening can sometimes cost you almost three figures less than writing. Anyways, turns out we (and this time I mean one of us more than the other) couldn't WAIT to go. So we (back to equal parts, again) went.

My reaction, just like the play itself, came in two parts. Within the first fifteen minutes, I was starting to freak out a little bit. What the hell had I gotten myself into?!? I had apparently slapped down a Benjamin to be treated to puns and childish wordplay. And I clearly wasn't "getting it" because every other member of the audience was laughing without reservation. I mean, I was considering double-checking the playbill to make sure we hadn't accidentally wandered into the childrens' theater¹; meanwhile, thighs were being vigorously slapped all around me. Okay, fine...some of the Wizard of Oz references were a little clever. Not Arrested Development clever (haha, FAR from it!), but I admit that I cracked a smile or two.

[INTERMISSION]

Towards the end, however, I was drinking the Kool Aid. Not gulping it down or anything! I would say more along the lines of sipping, but freely consuming nonetheless. Bottom line: if you stick with it through all the musical numbers and occasional lameness, the story is actually an entertaining twist on the original and some of the jokes are admittedly chuckle-worthy. I know, I know, I really shouldn't lay the praise on so liberally. Sorry about that.

PS: Whatever you do, do NOT try to find a homepage for Wicked by simply slapping a ".com" on the end. And if you still want to give that a shot, please PLEASE do not do so on your company laptop. Or so I hear. From someone that isn't me. Clearly.

¹ I also considered looking to see if they were merely piping in an 80s sitcom laughtrack from underneath the seats.

Cosmetic Sitelift

2009-03-30T20:31:00.000-07:00

As some of you (any of you?) might have noticed, my website design has underwent a few huge changes recently. And I mean approaching Obama levels of change (or 'Change', rather). And just like Obama (or President Obama, rather...man am I going to enjoy getting used to that), this was brought about in a grassroots movement by you, the Ottocratic readers. It was totally and solely due to that. And not a mistake. Definitely not a mistake. That would be silly.

The vast majority of my audience (or super-vast audience, rather...since that seems to be my shtick as of the last few minutes) of regular readers had spoken out about disliking this part or that part of the site. And I had issues of my own. Mainly the fact that it allowed so little customization.

So I starting looking into other templates provided by Blogger. They didn't have a very deep portfolio to choose from, but I started combing and considering ways to take one and mold it into something acceptable to me and...someone else. There was definitely someone else in that equation. Oh well.

Anyways, I was interested in one. It wasn't perfect and I - The readers! That's who I was forgetting! - had some concerns about changing some things that I didn't care for, but it was looking like a decent candidate. So before I went further I decided to save my current template because it was no longer available. Well, I meant to save it. But apparently the "Save Template" button meant "Save the template you are test driving", not "Save your current template before you accidently save over it". Okay, so a mistake had something to do with it.

At that point I was locked into changing the template. And then it turned out that they DID have my old template. Well, an updated version. An updated version that allowed more customization. Yippee! So, yeah, at this point it's pretty much the same old website with a couple changes to fonts and such.

I apologize if I just knocked your socks off.

PS: If you didn't like my choice for post image, just be glad I didn't go with this one.

Waltz With Bashir: Not much of a date movie, surprisingly

2009-03-08T23:25:00.001-07:00

This comic book - er, I mean graphic novel - come-to-life follows an Israeli filmmaker as he tries to retrace his steps as a soldier in the Israeli Defense Forces during the 1982 Lebanon War in an effort to recover his oddly absent memories of the infamous Sabra and Shatila massacre. Going in, as is usual for me, quite ignorant to the events, this film did a remarkable job telling the story. I left the theater a slight turmoil of conflicting emotions. On one hand I was eager to shed these haunting feelings, but on the other hand I felt hesitant to simply move on with my life. The story deserves to be absorbed, not ablated. I guess that's why I find myself writing this review tonight.

[Warning: The following review may be considered by some to be spoiler-"ish". It doesn't so much spoil the story itself, but rather the telling of the story. Possibly, that is. I don't know for sure. Just a bit of CYA, I guess. Basically I discuss some of the storytelling techniques utilized in the film, techniques that may be dampened in their effectiveness if you're aware of them going in. It could sort of be like someone telling you "There's a major twist at the end" just before you enter the theater to see The Sixth Sense. Okay, it's probably not that bad, but I still don't want to be that guy. So read on at your own risk if you have not yet seen this movie. Oh, and the Easter Bunny isn't real. Oh...crap. See, there I go with my spoilers!]

During the film, a psychologist recounts the story of how a young man survived his trek through a war-torn city as battles raged around him. His mind became detached from reality, as if he was watching it all through a camera. The scenes around him simply seemed fascinating and amazing through this frame of mind. However, he came upon a stable of slaughtered Arabian horses¹, and the gruesome sight of this pulled him back into reality. The veil was suddenly torn away and he was finally forced to truly see the landscape of horrors that he had been traversing. This is exactly how the movie was told.

The animation style was like watching reality through an oddly distorting filter. It helped detach you from the truth of the story, as if you were simply hearing an interesting story. This thin pane of lightly frosted glass, however, allowed the movie to lead you right up to the face of these atrocities, rather than pointing them out from afar. Most viewers, including my girlfriend and myself, likely would not have been able to endure this brutal honesty had it been retold via live action. I even found myself forgetting about the filter, so I sometimes needed to remind myself that this was recounting actual events.

Then, just as the movie is ending, the audience suddenly finds itself at the stables, in a manner of speaking. All at once the movie reminds you, in no uncertain terms, that all of what you had just experienced as an animated film was 100% real. Those people had really been slaughtered. Those innocent lives had really been ruined. Those atrocities had really been committed. Those kids had really been forced to stand by and witness, and in some ways aid in, those heinous crimes.

This was an important story to tell, and it was told in a very powerful manner. Any other method and I wouldn't have come away with the same intensity of experience. A little to the left and it wouldn't have fully registered. A little to the right and I might have had to leave or at least look away.

Either way, however, it wasn't much of a date movie.²

¹ I'm probably forgetting some major details of this story, but for some reason I remember what type of horses they were...don't ask me why.
² To be clear, in case you aren't quite sure: NO, I did not actually think that was going to be a date movie. I was just being a bit facetious there. So sue me.

He's Just Not That Into You: It's Own Counterexample

2009-02-18T09:15:00.000-08:00

Guys. Listen up. If your girlfriend or wife or female companion or whatever she is to you wants to go to this movie with you...break your leg. It's your only hope, so stop thinking and just do it already. But you have to make it believable. And don't wuss out with a sprained ankle or the like because that won't have the short-term intensity to make her forget about seeing this movie or the long-term staying power to outlast its theatrical release. So beware, for if your conviction wavers even an iota and you end up seeing this movie with her, know this: the more she enjoys it, the greater your inevitable imperfections and recent mistakes will be magnified in her mind. Even minuscule deviations from the Utopian boyfriend may very well end up appearing tantamount to war crimes.

At first I actually had some hope for this movie. I've enjoyed the stand-up of one of the co-writers. And the initial message seemed to ring true to something I've been saying for years now: men are idiots and women don't make any sense^1,2. The movie was trying to tell women to stop kidding themselves, stop pretending like that guy they're interested in is anything but the jerk that some part of their mind (likely something way, way in the back there) knows they are. A message I've tried, unsuccessfully, to impress upon more than a couple friends of my own.

However, just as those "great guys" will eventually stumble and devolve into their true forms - arrogant, selfish bastards - so too was this movie eventually hijacked by the cookie-cutter plot lines of any unrealistic chick flick. In rode the perfect men, followed soon by the knights in unnaturally shining armor. So much for all that "be realistic" and "be honest with yourself" crap, apparently you should just wait for that toad to transform into a prince. It was absolutely ridiculous: each of the relationships that turned out well was the direct result of a classic chick flick 180^o. And the two women that more or less followed the original message? Well, while not suffering the exact opposite fate, at best they had bittersweet endings.

And this complete reversal is what makes this movie all-the-more deadly to us men out there than the typical chick flick. At first it grabs the attention by telling you that it's not like every other fairy tale film out there. Those are filled with false realities that will undoubtedly lead to suffering. But no, not this movie. This movie tells it like it is. This movie is different. This movie is real. And thusly it wins your trust. But alas, the oasis is just another mirage, inevitably letting you down like any other barren patch of the entertainment world.

Huh, that sounds awfully familiar. Oh wait, that's right. That is the exact same pitfall that this very movie warned you against, though I believe it was referencing men and relationships. Instead it was being ironically, unintentionally and therefore painfully self-referential.

Unfortunately I think I was one of the few in the audience that actually noticed this blatant hypocrisy. Case in point: it was during the scene where one of the "this is the exact type of guy you have always been looking for, women in the audience" guys has a personal revelation after having painfully and possibly irrevocably screwed up the "I bet you've always dreamed of a relationship like this, women in the audience" relationship with the "how can you not identify with this girl, women in the audience" girl. It is excruciatingly telegraphed that he is about to save the day through some grand romantic gesture, so I (gladly) pull myself away from the screen and transfer my attention to the audience. As if on cue, just as the guy pulls out the perfect "I doubt that your man has ever said a line like this, women in the audience" line, I hear a synchronized tide of awwwwing in fantastic surround sound. As the precision strikes on the Achilles heels of women's hearts relentlessly continued, so too did the retortive barrage of swooning from the audience. I'm proud to say that I was able to resist the urge to stand up and shout "Did none of you actually see the first half of this damn movie?". However I was NOT able to contain my laughter. I am only human, after all. My girlfriend elbowed me, trying to shut me up, until I informed her that she too had fallen for it, as I had heard her (apparently without even knowing she was doing it) joining the chorus.

¹ Seriously. Next time someone of the opposite gender does something that bewilders you, apply this law of nature and I'm betting you that the fog will begin to dissipate.
² I already spoke previously about my personal mantra.

Winter '08/'09 Movie Review Round-Up

2009-02-08T23:12:00.000-08:00

My girlfriend and I managed to see a handful of movies this winter season, yet I have failed to review any of them. I am officially sorry. Therefore, in an effort to catch up, here are some mini-reviews on the films that I felt deserved mentioning. Additional reviews for less noteworthy films may follow at a later date. No promises, though.

Milk
Man, can Sean Penn act or what? And from what I hear, he got the character spot on. It was also just a lot of fun to see parts of San Francisco transformed into this historic snapshot; sometimes I wasn't even sure what was actual footage and what was recreated.

Of course I then spent the entire second half of the movie convinced that [spoiler alert] the assassination [/spoiler alert]¹ was just around the corner. By the end of the movie I was nervous wreck. However, as I got out of my seat and left the theater, I had an overpowering urge to march for...I don't know, something. It was a little late to be protesting Prop. 8, again, but it got me all riled up and I was feeling friggin' pissed off about these movements with their religious zealotry and homophobic bigotry. And, excuse my language in advance (which means I'm about to use some "adult words", so be careful), but good glory was Anita Bryant ever a [censored]fucking[/censored] bitch. I would say "God bless her", as my grape-originating relatives have taught me to do, but that would mean I didn't mean any offense...

Getting back to the actual movie, however...I found it to be very timely, quite informative (my ignorance can be quite impressive, so this doesn't necessarily mean a whole lot) and more than a little inspirational. For if they could fend off such fanatical opposition under those circumstances, then surely we can mount a decent comeback against this bullshit. I mean, come on!

Final Verdict: Go see this movie.

Wall*E
Absolutely loved this movie! My girlfriend and I actually watched it somewhere a few miles above India and/or China. By which I mean we were on an international flight. I did not mean to imply that either of us (a) were levitationally inclined or (b) had a portable DVD player that could operate at such altitudes. That would be silly. Anyways, in spite of everyone's best attempts to confine their conscious world to a bubble enveloping not much more than their individual seat area, it was still fairly awkward laughing out loud while being crammed into the cattle-class of a plane where I was easily recognizable as "the foreigner". And I don't mean just light chuckling or anything, this was almost "privacy of your own home" levels of laughing out loud. Awkward. Or, rather, it was awkward at first. Eventually we just had to give in and enjoy the movie as it deserved to be enjoyed.

Not even a quarter of the way into this movie - in spite of watching it on a 7" screen with headphones designed by someone that has never heard of the term "ergonomics"² and possibly has never observed a human head before - I knew it was going on my "to buy" list. Not surprisingly, having made this so well known, I received it as a gift before I had much of a chance to buy it myself.

While I enjoyed the story and the message and all, I was more sold by the comforting substrate of cultural (nerd) references that spanned the movie, the clever "alien observer" interpretations of common human objects and the incredible personification of the robots. Especially the cleaner robot, M-O, who had the greatest facial expressions and body language, which was all the more impressive due to the fact that he (I'm assuming it's a he?) had an extremely limited amount of body components with which to express anything, let alone human emotions. You could easily tell that the people that made this movie loved this movie. This was not simply another line to add to their resume, this one went beyond the typical "blood, sweat and tears" contribution. And it was all the better for it.

Final Verdict: Go see this movie. Rent it "for your kids". Or better yet, buy it as a birthday present for your son or daughter. That's a win squared right there!

Slumdog Millionaire

My girlfriend and I resisted seeing this movie for a long time. Some of her friends had told her that it was just another Bollywood flick. Nothing special. Somehow it had just turned into this crazy fad in the US. And I'm not exactly a "fad" type of guy³, so this created very little impetus for me to see this film. However, after the six or seventh conversation with completely different groups of people that started with (not "contained", but "started with"!) "Oh my god, have you seen Slumdog yet? No? Oh, you have to see this movie," we eventually started easing up our guard.

At some point, our armor having been sufficiently eroded by doubt and peer pressure, Slumdog managed to weasel its way into our entertainment agenda. We tried to not care for it. We tried to see it as the "same ol' same ol'". We tried. And we failed. Sure, the story could be a bit too predictable or a bit too cheesy at times, but these weren't sail-puncturing moments on this silver screen voyage.

First off, I thought the acting and the story-telling were both fantastic. These are two areas that often lose me in Bollywood movies. I found myself actually *gasp* believing that the characters were actually those characters and not just actors trying their hardest to be those characters. And the story kept me immersed, instead of forcing me to come up for air at random intervals thinking "Wait...that doesn't make any sense." So the quality of these basic movie characteristics were well above par.

I also appreciated that they took on some extremely sensitive topics from within India and its history, something that has apparently garnered them a decent amount of angry backlash. But I didn't see this aspect of the movie as simply saying "Look at this widespread and persistent corruption, look at this culture of poverty we perpetuate, look at the atrocities that many of us allowed to occur - and have continued to express zero guilt or remorse for - during the Bombay Riots. Look at how shameful of a country we are." I didn't hear that as the message. It probably helped that this wasn't talking about my country of origin, so it wasn't exactly my national pride on the line, but I honestly saw it as a message of hope for the country. For a child born into and raised by the darkest parts of India's infectious underbelly continuously overcame all this adversity and managed to lift up those around him, going so far as to capture the hearts of the country. That, I say, perfectly exemplifies the awesome strength and potential that resides within India. That is what truly impresses me about this culture. And it was done in such a way that was infinitely more effective than those tales of redemption that take place in sanitized, rose-colored replicas of India. This India was real. Apparently just too real for some.

Final Verdict: Anyone that says this movie doesn't live up to the hype is, to be honest, full of crap. It is a truly wonderful movie. Not a perfect movie, I'll admit, but still a must see.

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button

This movie was like chewing a stick of fairly tasty gum, but then not being able to spit it out so you're forced to continue chewing it well, well beyond the flavor's second or third half-life to the point where it begins disintegrating in your mouth. Apparently the flavor crystals broke down even sooner for my girlfriend.

I was going to talk about how this very much was Pitt's Forrest Gump - there are some decent parallels there - and how Katrina played an interesting yet unobtrusive role in the story, but instead I've decided to make my review as short as the movie was long.

Final Verdict: Eh. I guess it's a worth a watch, but don't go out of your way to see it. It's like a less interesting Big Fish, but towards the end you women get some "Calvin Klein model" moments with your Brad.

¹ To see the text within the Spoiler Alert, simply highlight it.
² Maybe these are the same people that used to design those skull crushing headbands that girls wore in elementary school. I wouldn't be surprised if some study came out with the inexplicable findings that a dramatic percentage of grown women in the United States had gourd-shaped craniums.
³ Please reference "Titanic, My Boycott Of" or "Harry Potter, My Vow To Resist All Things" for more on this topic.

My India Experience, Take 2: The Great Divide

2009-02-05T20:41:00.000-08:00

[Notice: The views and opinions expressed by The Ottocracy in these posts do not necessarily represent the overall opinions about India for The Ottocracy, its management, its employees, John Belushi or the makers of Reese's Pieces candy. The Ottocracy is not responsible and disclaims any and all liability for the content of posts written by The Ottocracy. In general, The Ottocracy truly enjoys India, being amazed by the vibrancy, liveliness and culture that can be found around any given corner. Also, the mangoes are friggin' delicious.]

[Notice Addendum: The claims made in this post are based on approximately zero educational background in any applicable field or topic. Instead they come from personal experiences and observations while in India along with conversations with individuals having non-zero relevant knowledge.]

There are many, non-orthogonal (i.e. interdependent) axes spanning the incredible society of India upon which rest bi- or multi-nodal spectra. I concede the point to my better half that, of these structures, the axis of education may represent the panacea for many of the problems facing this country. This country where the weakness of the bonds between cause and effect, correlation and causation is only rivaled (in my experience) by that of the Bush administration, which seemed almost eager as it boldly picked up this Darwin Award of a gauntlet. These issues (the ones mentioned a long line or two ago, in case you forgot) include corruption, discrimination and social, political and religious conflict. However, this post is meant to cover an issue related to education, but one that felt more blatant: the technological divide within India.

Now I do enjoy the implementation of a good metaphor. This is doubly true for a good nerd metaphor. Which is why I knew I would be unable to resist what I am about to expose you to as soon as it solidified (no preemptive pun intended) in my mind. I would apologize, but my mental court has absolved me of any crime. To be honest, I'm fairly certain that jury selection was an important player in this decision. Before diving headlong into the depths of the nerdaphor, and I might recommend galoshes, I want to illustrate the nature of this issue with an example:

Throughout the streets of India, you will see countless stores and vendors, many of which have likely existed for generations. At one such store I saw an old man who somehow felt artificially aged beyond his years, as if Einstein zapped him with his Relativity Ray. As he shoo'ed the dust off of his wares with an old cloth, a chore that had over the years taken the form of a daily ritual, I was struck by the condition of his shop. It was covered in a layer of what can only be described as not grime (as it didn't so much feel "dirty"), but entropy. A blanket of age. Rather than replace the old, the eroded and the broken (likely something prohibitively expensive), these were incorporated into the structure, turning it into an evolving, living dedication to its history.

Across the street, as if by some antithetical reflection, stood a pristine, multi-level Nike store with hospital-clean floors, a calculated flood of fluorescent light and floor-to-ceiling windows. A boastful monument to the cutting edge of India. A testament to the successes and accomplishments of the nation, overcoming the limitations of the past. Or at least that's what it was trying to be.

I stood there trying to comprehend how two polar opposites could coexist in such proximity. Soon my mind, as it is wont to do, started looking at the situation from different angles, attempting to find a viewpoint from which its profile matched up with something I was more familiar with. Out of the fog it suddenly appeared: dendritic formation during rapid solidification!¹

The closer I compared their outlines, the stronger the resemblance became. Not only did this theory mimic my observations, but it could also be extended to offer suggestions as to its causes and how to change the outcome.

The Observation
Much in the way that I was seeing extremes in the technological divide living as neighbors, in dendritic structures you can observe large variations in the concentration of specific elements over relatively short distances. In this image of a dendrite (the tree-like formation), the purple regions may contain a fairly low concentration of a specific element (say chromium) whereas the yellow regions can contain very high concentrations of this element. The steep gradients (either technology or chromium, take your pick) may be unnatural in other circumstances, but under these conditions (i.e. India or rapid alloy solidification, once again take your pick) it shouldn't come as a surprise. Why you ask? Oh, well then I suppose you will just have to read on.

The Cause
Dendridic formation is caused by the rapid, generally uncontrolled cooling of an alloy from its liquid to solid state (for example, when plunging molten steel into a water bath). But what does this mean for India? That's easy. This divide was likely caused by the relatively sudden transition that took India from the developing world and threw it into the developed one. It's as if India experienced the entire industrial revolution with someone's finger on the fast forward button.

The Controls
In order to prevent this dendritic formation, the phase change must be controlled. In our example, this would (ideally) look like dipping the red-hot steel into a series of baths, each incrementally cooler than the last². It would appear as if a single, uniform wave of cooler temperature slowly crept up the rod. The dendrites form when this wave front is disrupted, causing certain parts to move ahead and solidify while others to lag behind. Eventually this leads to the intricate tree-like structure, a structure where the dendrite branches and the interstitial spaces can have very different concentrations of a given element.

When today's superpowers went through the (original) Industrial Revolution, their progress was, in many ways, self-regulated. If they wanted to advance to the next level, they had to do the research, development and distribution. On the other hand, current developing countries are being bombarded by profit-hungry corporations trying to upgrade whoever has the money to 42" Sony Bravia sets³ and Audi A9s⁴. America was air-cooled while India practically went for a polar bear swim. In hindsight, what I saw was the inevitable outcome of this unregulated, consumerist free-for-all.

If there is any hope to create a more homogeneous distribution of technology for developing countries, there need to be some regulations put on companies trying to make a buck off of high-end luxury items when significant numbers of the country's citizens haven't even had the opportunity to receive the benefits that technology provides to the necessities of life (i.e. food, water, sanitation, shelter, medicine, etc.). Once again, I'm no socioeconomic international polisci PhD graduate, so details of just how this would work quickly escape me. Feel free to step in and fill in the blanks for me.

Anyways, just as us aspiring Materials Science and Engineering students would have never thought that such an intricate pattern of disparate concentrations could exist as a stable structure, so did I not originally understand how the steep technological divides in India didn't cause an implosion.

However, "stable" doesn't necessarily mean "equitable" or "beneficial to the whole".

¹ Who else guessed that?
² For the curious out there, in the real world this is generally done with ovens and, eventually, oil baths for final quenching. Oh, why oil baths instead of water? Well oil is used because it cools more gradually (and less violently) than water.
³ Oh snap! They have an OLED screen!
⁴ I don't know cars...is it obvious?

Breaking News: Obama Inaugurated, Clinton Suspends Campaign

2009-01-21T00:58:00.000-08:00

At noon today, Barack Hussein Obama was sworn in as the 44^th president of the United States of America. And, in what many are speculating as a related move, at approximately noon forty-five today Hillary Clinton held a separate press conference to announce that she would officially be suspending her campaign.

"While many of you may accuse me of being premature in my withdrawal," said the former first lady, "I am convinced that now is the time for us to put aside our differences in order to come together and do all we can to help elect Barack Obama as the next president of the United States."

There was an immediate backlash from her staunch supporters, ranging from quiet disappointment to unbridled outrage. Penny Stockton, a top Clinton donor, summed up their concerns. "Is this what we want to teach our daughters? That just because you are soundly and fairly defeated you should simply roll over? Well, I guess Hillary thinks it's time for us to get back in the kitchen."

Campaign chairman, Terry McAuliffe, was quick to respond via a released statement. "We understand and sympathize with all of Hillary's ardent supporters. Obviously just because it is theoretically and statistically, morally and philosophically, mathematically and temporally impossible for her to win at this point, that is no reason to concede. But what we ask you is to understand that this type of decision is never easy to make, no matter the circumstances. And after much reflection and deliberation we decided that it was no longer constructive to the greater cause to continue." He added, "Also, we're in [censored]-tons of debt."

Chiming in on the latest developments in the race for the presidency, Rudy Giuliani announced, "I think we've lulled them into a false sense of confidence now. We were prepared for this from the very beginning... Now we're off to the next [stage of the campaign] with renewed vigor."

My India Experience, Take 2: Safety and Security

2009-01-05T00:06:00.001-08:00

For those of you keeping track at home, it has been another six months since I was last in India to see my girlfriend. Quantum teleportation having failed to scale up at an acceptable pace, I was forced to fly over there yet again. On the plus side, I could look forward to bringing home something very near and dear to my heart: the first DVD from the Firefly series! However, I ran out of space in my luggage, but my girlfriend was nice enough to come home with me, so problem solved.

[Notice: The views and opinions expressed by The Ottocracy in these posts do not necessarily represent the overall opinions about India for The Ottocracy, its management, its employees or John Belushi. The Ottocracy is not responsible and disclaims any and all liability for the content of posts written by The Ottocracy. In general, The Ottocracy truly enjoys India, being amazed by the vibrancy, liveliness and culture that can be found around any given corner. Also, the mangoes are friggin' delicious.]

One of the recurring themes that crept up throughout our travels was that India has an interesting, often bureaucratic, take on personal and public safety. Here are a few of my favorite examples:

Bank Security
I am entirely convinced that a Seinfeld movie could be made simply by sending the cast into a bank in India and telling them to try to open an account. Seriously, wouldn't even need a script. Doubt me? Just mention the words "Western Union" to my girlfriend.

One facet of this polyhedron of entertainment gold is security. Now if there is one thing that Mack has taught me, it's that equipment must be tailored to the situation at hand. In this case, the cramped quarters and high civilian density would probably warrant something quick and compact with high precision. And nothing says "quick, compact and precise" like, you guessed it, the double-barreled shotgun. I don't know, maybe bank robbers in India are just more concerned about the well being of innocent bystanders. Or maybe "team damage" is turned off over there? All I know is that the first thing that caught my eye as we were crammed into a bank the size of a large ATM booth was the fact that the ratio of the security guard's height to the length of the twin long barrels slung over his shoulder was in danger of approaching unity. For some reason the words 'collateral damage' popped into my head. Which then caused me to think about Arnie's lowest-body-count-ever "action" flick.¹ Which then made me frown.

I saw this repeated throughout my trip. On the other hand, I don't recall seeing even one guard with a handgun. Some had rifles, though shotguns were definitely the weapon of choice.² Maybe security guards are generally supplied by army surplus. And/or possibly the lack of a civilian market made these the cheapest, most readily available firearms on the market. Either way, this sight made me less afraid of the robbers and more afraid of the cones of lead justice their presence may bring.

Airport Security
There will always be variations in the exact security protocols between various airports. That's a given. Within America, for example, this generally means that you may or may not be walking through the metal detector in your socks. In India...well, if nothing else, it's clear that they sure do like their checkpoints. While the number and location of checkpoints was pretty consistent, the neat thing was that each one was like...was like a spin off The Wheel of Fish: you pretty much knew the range of possibilities, but you never quite knew which you would get. Take, for example, our local flight out of the Kolkata International Airport. From curb to cushion we went through at least five (or six, depending on how you count them) checkpoints.

1) In order to even get into the ticketing area, we had go through a checkpoint with a couple of armed guards. I couldn't for the life of me tell you what they were technically supposed to check for in terms of proper documentation, but we got through with a print-out of our e-ticket information. I'm pretty sure they would have let me through with a hand-written note. Either way, this was basically non-security.³

2) At the ticketing counter, our e-ticket printout was checked again. And once again our identities were not confirmed. Our checked bags were taken (and weighed) and our tickets were issued. They also provided bag tags for our carry-on bags. Don't be confused, while these are in fact the bag tags that you fill out with your contact information in case they are lost, they're used for stamping at later security checks. I found out that little info-nugget after taking the time to carefully fill each out. Anyways, basically another ineffective security check.

3) Instead of large terminals with many gates, they had "micro-terminals" with a row of "gates" (no more than small counters, all of which lead you outside to a row of buses that take you to your plane). This, like our terminal security, is the most stringent checkpoint of the bunch. As is common in India, men and women have separate lines. Checked bags go through the X-ray machines and then you walk through the metal detector (more on this later). Then you step up to the security agent who frisks you, examines your ticket and stamps it. Here they didn't verify any identification. Again. However, our bag tags had been stamped, so I guess that's something.

[Note: Just a "The more you know" moment. Be very careful that you enter the correct gate area as there is little to no indication once inside that you may be in the wrong area. Add to this that you may be informed, by multiple, equally-uninformed uniformed personnel, that you are in the correct area when you, in fact, are not. So yeah, just be careful.]

4) Once the flight starts boarding (there may or may not be a boarding announcement and the flight-status screens may continue to show that your flight is not yet boarding...but these should not be taken as any indication that your plane isn't about to leave without you), it's time to go to the "gate". The person at the podium takes my stamped ticket. Behind them, another agent checks that each carry-on has a stamped bag tag (I have no idea how someone would be smart enough to smuggle a bag through security but not smart enough to figure out how to get an extra stamped bag tag...but I guess I just don't get it). Oh, and did I mention that they didn't bother checking IDs here, either? Well, they didn't.

5) Buses took us to the planes. Before boarding, our tickets were checked one last time (I guess to make sure we didn't get on the wrong bus and therefore wrong plane...I suppose this is a good thing). Naturally, IDs are not checked here. Then it is off to find your assigned seat.⁴

In other words, the only things we truly needed in order to get on that plane were (a) someone's (not necessarily our own) e-ticket printout and (b) the willingness to have our carry-ons tagged and X-rayed and our body to be frisked. Everything else was redundant, irrelevant or unnecessary. In other airports, however, our IDs were checked no fewer than three times. I'm just saying that it was a little scary how easy it was for us to get onto that particular plane. And it didn't feel like a fluke.

Checkpoint Security
My favorite Indian oddity was, hands down, the security checkpoint. These fascinating creatures can be found just about anywhere: airports, temples, historical sites and even some train and subway stations. And if you weren't paying attention, temporary checkpoints could even creep up on you at busy street markets.

The distinctive trait of the Indian checkpoint is a structure I ignorantly believed to be a metal detector. It looked like a metal detector, it sounded like a metal detector, but does that really make it a duck...er, metal detector? I sure thought so. Boy, I can be a friggin' idiot sometimes. Contrary to these initial observations, however, upon further experience with the arch-like structure I realized that they clearly were never used for the actual detection of metal. These door-less, wall-less door jams seemed to sound the alarm pretty much whenever anyone went through. This lead me to my first real theory: these were human detectors disguised as metal detectors.

The further I dug into this mystery, the more interesting evidence I uncovered. For example, each device appeared to have its own distinctive auditory signal. One was so energetic that it tricked me into thinking that I had won some sort of door prize. Sadly, these non-Odyssean siren calls typically go ignored, as the locals (including the extremely-apathetic groupies often found nearby, who are always dressed as police or security guards) have grown numb to them. Or maybe they all just use beeswax.

I later came to conclude that my original theory was, at best, incomplete. The impetus for this reevaluation was my encounter with a mute version of the species. What troubled me wasn't that the fact that it was mute, but that that this fact did not appear to cripple the functionality of its associated checkpoint. There was no move to try to fix or replace what would, under my previous hypothesis, be deemed as a dysfunctional structure. That is why I submit that the secondary (or, possibly, primary?) function is completely unrelated to these calls. It turns out that they are, in fact, the breeding ground for one of the most elusive formations within India: the queue.

I don't think that it is unfair to say that the queue is not a naturally-occurring formation within Indian society. In situations where one would expect a line to form (where one not in India), you will see something resembling what a game of soccer turns into when played by small children: "bunch ball". However, if one wants to witness this elusive social phenomenon in the wild, the best place to look is around these "metal detectors" (mute or otherwise). It appears that when a group of Indians happens upon these archways, a queue appears on the opposite side. Entropy into order, chaos into organization. It's almost magical. In some cases, this sphere of influence is powerful enough to form lines, often spanning multiple feet, on both sides of the device!

Therefore, my final conclusion is that the purpose of these "metal detector"-like devices is two-fold: they are both human detectors (or "flesh finders") and human funnels (or "queue creators").

Personal Safety
All I have to say on this issue⁵ is that, during the holiday of Diwali, I saw some kids light off a rudimentary fragmentation grenade on the side of an arterial street...and I'm pretty sure that I was the only one in the entire country that seemed to have a problem with this. They basically stuck an M-80 under a small clay dish, lit the fuse and then took maybe five steps backwards. All I could think, as I was huddled in the fetal position behind a taxi across the street praying that I wouldn't be Swiss-cheesed by any of the hypersonic ceramic fragments exploding around me, was that Indian society doesn't exactly have a NASA-like fascination with safety precautions. I just wonder if the concept of reincarnation reduces the cost-effectiveness of imparting a sense of fragility and mortality to your children.

There were plenty of other stories and examples, but those were most of my favorites. The important point, however, is that just because I found many of the safety and security practices to be...interesting to say the least, they managed to keep me alive and relatively well during this country-spanning adventure. Dhanyavad ("Thank you"), India!

¹ Not to be confused with the comparatively awesome Foxx/Cruise movie.
² Best. Music Video. Ever.
³ Don't get me wrong, I'm sure that "suspicious characters" (i.e. people who the guard for whatever reason doesn't like and feels is not powerful enough to get him in trouble) are required to have multiple forms of identification and possibly a notarized copy of their itinerary. Your appearance affects everything from prices of goods and services, availability of taxis (and the functionality of their meters), dress codes at shwank restaurants and the application of just about any rule or regulation. Oh yes, profiling (and its supposedly-abolished buddy, the caste system) is alive and well in India.
⁴ You hear that, Southwest Airlines: assigned seating! Yes, that means that Indian airliners are officially less chaotic than you. Indian airliners. Ouch.
⁵ And I could say plenty.

OttoList: Top 5 Non-Spoof Sports Movies

2008-10-04T00:14:00.000-07:00

[Note: I originally put this list together in response to a poll posted on my company's internal movie website. The rules for the poll were that you could select any sports or sports-related movie, including comedies, as long as they weren't spoofs.]

Please be aware that I have apparently (or so I realized once I started trying to put this list together) managed to avoid almost all of the "blockbuster" or "classic" sports films. So that's probably going to turn my list into a bit of a Frankenstein's monster as I'm forced to make due with the limited selection available from my past. As you may notice, I started grasping at straws for the last few. If this was a Top Spoof Sports Movie List, however...

1) Lagaan - To be honest, I haven't enjoyed too many Hindi films (yet!), but this one was fantastic! The production value was great, the underlying messages weren't painfully superficial, the acting was uncharacteristically believable and while some of the characters were a bit over-stereotyped, none of them were annoyingly so. So take THAT, you crumpet-eating imperialists!¹

2) Poolhall Junkies - I wasn't sure if Rounders was a valid selection for this list, so I had to make sure to at least include Poolhall Junkies. I probably prefer Rounders out of the two, but Poolhall Junkies is more safely a sports movie. If you've missed either of these movies, fix that. Fix that now.

3) Bend It Like Beckham - Soccer is my favorite sport to play, by far. And this movie definitely benefited from this bias, even if the actual soccer footage was fairly limited and half of it was pretty underwhelming. But I enjoyed the story well enough (including the now-quite-relevant portion of the plot) and I really liked the soundtrack. Also, I gotta say that Parminder Nagra and Keira Knightley (even with her uber-British underbite²) were pretty hot. Heck, even Jonathan Meyers brought on the sexy!

4) Any Given Sunday - Al Pacino reprises his classic "my unhealthy obsession with work makes me incapable of sustaining any meaningful relationships" role. Beyond that I honestly don't recall if the movie was any good. I think this ranked #4 simply because Al's character kept triggering scenes from Heat in my mind.

5) Wildcats - This final slot was really a toss-up between this, Major League and The Replacements. While I really enjoyed some of the characters in the latter two (especially The Replacements' Nigel 'The Leg' Gruff³, the "wiry" Welsh soccer-player⁴-turned-place-kicker), I didn't mind promoting the lesser-known former. Plus I do have a fond memory if one particular scene. However I'm afraid to risk digging it up, as it will most likely suffer from Silver Streak Syndrome (i.e. "I remember laughing hysterically when I saw this years ago, but watching it now I can't for the life of me figure out why I enjoyed this.").

And if the judges will allow it, I would like to cast one negative vote in this category:

-1) Rudy - This movie was pretty much as cheesy as the taglines make it sound. Though I think my distaste for this movie has less to do with the movie itself and more to do with the circumstances under which I saw it. This one time back when I was a Boy Scouts, we planned a fun outting: instead of another boring scout meeting, we were going to a movie! Oh man, we were so excited, it was going to be awesome. We got to the theater, looked at all of our options and there it was...Demolition Man. Seriously, who wouldn't choose to see that? We couldn't wait to buy our tickets and get inside. And then our hopes and dreams were promptly taken out back and kicked in the crotch: the chaperones would only allow us to go to a PG movie. Hence Rudy. It was like our mom was getting dinner ready and she took the icecream out of the freezer...so that she could get at the frozen spinach. At that age, Rudy was basically the antithesis of Demolition Man. The evening would probably have been less depressing had we just gone home. Thanks for nothing, Rudy.

¹ Also, if I hadn't ranked this film as #1, I most likely would have been placing myself in mortal danger from my traditionally non-violent girlfriend.
² And there I go again, ragging on the English. Wonder what that's all about?
³ Who I now recall as also being in the under-appreciated Formula 51.
⁴ See, told you I like soccer.

"Good morning, this is Prejudice calling. Is Ignorance available?"

2008-09-21T16:54:00.000-07:00

This morning¹ I received a wake-up call that started as a simple poll-taking dealio; the guise of harmlessness, however, was soon dropped and Greeks came pouring out. On the plus side, it sure got my blood pumping so I had no problem getting out of bed.

The nice woman, as part of a poll (or so she claimed), just wanted to ask me some questions about items on the upcoming ballot. No big whoop, my head thought in its grogginess, so I agreed to help her out. One of the items that the "poll" was interested in (and actually the only item that they were interested in, as it turned out) was Prop. 8. This would basically add an amendment to the state constitution saying that "only marriage between a man and a woman is valid or recognized in California."

First off, she simply wanted to know if I knew how I would vote, if the election was held today. I said 'yes' and the perkiness in her "You would vote 'yes'?" was like a stifled Spartan sneeze coming from the belly of the balsa-wood beast. So when I had to correct her incorrect interpretation of my mono-syllabic response, I was pretty sure that I was in for a fight. And I didn't have to wait long, for as her follow-up she asked if I was aware of all of the vast repercussions of voting 'no'. I'm not trying to say that she was threatening me in some passive-aggressive way or anything², she just wanted to make sure I wasn't ignoring all of the religions I would be destroying³. My half-awake, off-guard brain couldn't readily think of a response to this that wasn't plain rude and unproductive, so I let her continue.

My silence lasted until she tried to convince me that voting 'no' would set up a kind of reverse-discrimination. Apparently heterosexual couples in California are suffering the family-rupturing shame of gender-neutral titles on their marriage licenses. I mean, just think of all the emergency situations that would result in you running to your marriage license to confirm which of you is the man and which is the woman. Countless, most likely, countless. So I apologize, Mrs. Poll Taker⁴, for being an unwitting accomplice to this heinous crime by attacking the comparatively minor "discrimination" against The Gays. How naive I was.

In other words, yes, I went off on her a bit. I didn't shout. I wasn't rude. I wasn't sarcastic. I wasn't rudely sarcastic. I didn't just say "no, you're wrong" or go off on some rant (like I'm doing now). I didn't burst out laughing at the absurdity of her arguments (though I almost did on a few occasions). I simply needed to make it clear that I believe our government (in this case state government) and its constitution are meant to protect our freedoms, not limit them. Calmly (and to her credit not a condescending calm, a polite calm) she reminded me that voting 'no' would have long-term negative impacts on our families. I simply told her that I believed that voting 'no' would have long-term positive impacts on our families. I guess that was enough for her, she realized she would not be rescuing Helen or sacking Troy, so she quickly ended the call. A shame, since the conversation was just getting good and I was finally fully conscious.

And I thought these people weren't supposed to have access to cell phone numbers?

¹ Okay, so technically it was 12:30pm. Not quite "morning"...but I had a late night of, um, "work".
² Actually, now that I think of it...maybe she was threatening me? I better lock my door and put Tippy on high alert for election night.
³ Those weren't her exact words, per se, so I invite her to correct my paraphrasation^3a.
^3a I'm not sure if 'paraphrasation' is even a word, but I like it, so I'm keeping it.
⁴ Though I'm just guessing she is a woman, I failed to ask for her pre-apocalyptic marriage license.

Burn After Reading: Though I like my title better, 'Burn Before Reading'

2008-09-17T20:59:00.000-07:00

I went to this movie with my parents and my good friend Marcos. We loved it.

...

Oh, you want more? Well, uuuuuuuh. Let's see. Oh, so the Coen brothers apparently decided to take a step back from the heaviness of No Country for Old Men as this was much more about getting us to laugh than getting us to cringe (though apparently they couldn't fully resist the temptation of tossing in some cringe-inducers here and there). And did they ever succeed! At making us laugh. Did you seriously already forget what I had just said in the previous sentence? Wow.

But back to the review: each and every character was absolutely fantastic in their quirkiness. And, to be clear, it wasn't Gilmore Girls¹ quirkiness where you feel like you are trapped in an episode of The Twilight Zone where everyone's personalities were produced on a Xerox machine; the Coen brothers gave us a tableau of quirkiness on which to feast. Sure, there was some type-casting, but is that really such a crime when it works out perfectly?

And there's really not much more to say, folks. Now that I'm sitting here trying to think of what else to talk about, I keep coming back to the characters. I mean, the story was great and clever and really enjoyed it and all², but it almost became secondary, the backdrop in front of which the game of character billiards was played.

Now it wasn't quite a Kiss Kiss Bang Bang or a Lock Stock, but I still highly recommend that you all go and see this movie. Though, just a tip, there is some sexual humor...so maybe reconsider watching this one with the 'rents.

¹ Full disclosure: back in college some of my female friends peer-pressured me into experimenting with Gilmore Girls. And while I am ashamed to admit that, it's a lot less painful than some of the other crap they made me endure.
² Sorry for the high 'and' density there. It just sorta happened.

OttoList: Top 5 Worst Comic Book Movies

2008-09-11T23:29:00.000-07:00

[Note: I originally put this list together in response to a poll posted on my company's internal movie website. The rules for the poll were that it could be any non-animated movie based on a comic book. My 'Rebuttals' section is in response to another coworker's list.]

1) Catwoman - Not even Halle Berry could save this movie. Not even Halle Berry in a slinky leather outfit could save this movie. Though that part was pretty bad, too (I can't remember, was that ruined by a bunch of fake-looking CG? There was something about it that ruined it, don't recall right now...and it's probably better that way.). Horrible story. HORRIBLE "acting". This movie dove headlong into a sea of horrible and just waded there, content with life. This movie pretty much had zero chance of being good, but they still managed to achieve impressive levels of horrible.

2) Elektra - Wow was this ever bad. I knew it wasn't going to be good, but I was ready to fall asleep. And then at the very end these super powerful bad guys suddenly forget that they are super powerful bad guys and are defeated in short, pathetic order (one gets smooshed by a falling tree...). It was as if they got to the end of the movie and realized that they had to wrap things up, but they had spent too much time doing nothing with the story so they were stuck with trying to make a not-so-super hero defeat these clearly superior villains. Ugh!

3) Batman & Robin - The nipple-suits I could put up with. The ubiquitous neon and the butchering of the Bain character were what really made me hate this franchise. They were slowly pushing the series towards cliff overlooking this realm of bad puns and slap-stick humor, but those two things were what destroyed it for me. Batman Begins...I cannot express in words how grateful I am for this new series.

4) Ghost Rider - This had some potential to be a cool comic book movie...but it has painfully bad. I like Nick Cage, but he was really all this movie had going for it in the end, and I think even he knew it was going to bomb so he didn’t even bother trying.

5) Spiderman 3 - This was a difficult slot to fill. There were some other horrible movies that I could have picked (such as Tank Girl or Son of The Mask (I’m assuming, didn’t bother seeing it)), but I didn’t really realize that those were actually comic book movies. Punisher 2 will probably take care of this slot, but it hasn’t been out so that it can bomb yet. I've been a bit torn about this series. Some of the things they did worked very well and I felt honored the comic. I loved the inclusion of Bruce Campbell. But then other parts were just too cheesy and this is exemplified by most of #3. They had the both the symbiote suit and Venom to work with, and they paid homage to this great source material with a friggin' dance sequence? Are you kidding me??? Oh crap...there was also the new Superman...nope, I'm going to go with my gut on this one.

Rebuttals:
1) Daredevil - Okay, I admit that I liked Daredevil (though Jennifer Gardner’s role as Elektra was pretty painful). I’m not sure exactly what it was, but part of it was their vision of how these unrealistic supervillains would fit into a pseudo-realistic world. Part of it was how they did his special "vision". And I also don’t hate Ben, at least not all of the time.

2) The Hulk - I was mixed about this, but I didn’t hate it. First off, I liked that it was based in the Bay Area (and specifically Berkeley, Go Bears!, even if it wasn’t overly accurate in terms of geography and such). At first I didn’t like the presentation with those odd panels; that was, however, until I realized that they were trying to represent the panels of a comic book, then I thought it was pretty cool. Weird, but cool for a one time thing. Haven’t seen the latest one, so I can’t compare it yet.

3) Fantastic Four - To be clear: I didn’t like these movies. So I’m definitely not disagreeing with their presence on your "Runners Up" list. They were simply lame, just shy of offensive, so not worthy of putting on this 'worst of the worst' list.

Also, here’s an interesting list to check out. Looks like Hollywood is really liking this comic book money.