Well, I survived. (*Mike waits quietly for the applause*)
So a huge thank you for the three people (two of whom I've never even met) who hoped I didn't die. To the rest of you... um, sorry? What does it say about your sad little life when people you know won't miss you?
Sorry, I'm feeling punchy. I was marking my latest pile of essays yesterday afternoon and caught plagarist student at Prov this week. Usually I get really mad, then depressed, then annoyed, but I didn't this time. I usually look at a student trying to pass someone else's work as her own as a personal insult, like she thinks I'm too stupid to spot it. This year, after catching two students at two different schools and being told the same crappy excuse, I told my class many, MANY times a) what constitutes plagarism and b) that if they did decide to try and plagarize their I would show NO MERCY. And I didn't.
I don't even feel the standard stomach knots that typically accompany cases of plagarism. Must be getting desensitized.
We were looking at Swift's "A Modest Proposal" today in class. As a way of further illustrating satire, I decided to show clips of arguably the best working satirist we have, Sacha Baron Cohen. I used the clip from Da Ali G Show where Borat sings a country song in a bar in Texas. The song, which he says is about the troubles in his country, turns into a horrible anti-semitic song about throwing Jews down the well. We watched as Cohen (an observant Jew himself) lead the bar patrons in the chorus "Throw the Jew down the well, and then my country can be free." Oblivious to the fact that they are the butt of Cohen's satire, the patrons clap and smile and sing along.
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Well, the weather outside is frightful
It's snowing here in Manitoba: a lot. In fact, just outside my window resembles the inside of a snow globe (if anyone would bother making a snowglobe with the Adult Education building in it). The snow was supposed to dissipate by the afternoon, which suited me fine. I have to drive out to Otterburne tomorrow for class. If the snow ended by the afternoon that would give road crews plenty of time to plough major routes. I'm starting to worry that the roads will be horrendous tomorrow and that I will die in a horrible car accident.
And that would suck.
And that would suck.
Saturday, November 25, 2006
They both went down to berlin, joined the ice capades
Just finished watching an excellent documentary, End of the Century: the Story of the Ramones.
Growing up I had only a marginal knowledge of the Ramones and their sound. I was busy listening to MC Hammer. I remmeber liking "I Wanna Be Sedated" and a couple of people I knew had Ramones shirts, but that was it. When I got to university, though, and I was trying to expand my musical tasts, a roommate lent me a couple of Ramones CDs. I loved the stripped down sound, the energy, the immediacy of their music. Sure, a lot of the songs sounded alike, and they probably only knew two, maybe three chords, but their music was awesome.
The documentary is especially interesting given the scope of interviews, all of the "main" Ramones - Joey, Johnny, Dee Dee, Tommy and Markie - had multiple interview segments. The artists are honest, revealing both the internal struggles that continued throughout the band's life (Dee Dee's drug addiction, Johnny's authoritarian approach to the band, Joey's shyness) and the external struggles.
The most fascinating section for me was the part about the Sex Pistols and how they changed punk. The Ramones formed before the Pistols and were a major influence on that group's sound. There's a great story about a young Johnny Rotten trying to get backstage during the Ramones first UK tour and being concerned that the band would beat him up. Of course, when the Pistols came to American, they shot their mouths off, spat on the crowd, swore and became legends. People often talk about the "Nevermind the Bullocks" album as a landmark for punk music, but the suggestion of the documentary was that the Sex Pistols themselves nearly destoryed punk. What was interesting, though, was the backlash against punk music that followed. The Ramones in particular suffered declining album sales, loss of radio airplay and concert bookings, as a result of the Sex Pistols' antics. So a band that many people believed were going to become the biggest thing in the world, were seriously hurt by the theatrics of another band. As Ramones' first manager put it: "it was easier not to book us."
Growing up I had only a marginal knowledge of the Ramones and their sound. I was busy listening to MC Hammer. I remmeber liking "I Wanna Be Sedated" and a couple of people I knew had Ramones shirts, but that was it. When I got to university, though, and I was trying to expand my musical tasts, a roommate lent me a couple of Ramones CDs. I loved the stripped down sound, the energy, the immediacy of their music. Sure, a lot of the songs sounded alike, and they probably only knew two, maybe three chords, but their music was awesome.
The documentary is especially interesting given the scope of interviews, all of the "main" Ramones - Joey, Johnny, Dee Dee, Tommy and Markie - had multiple interview segments. The artists are honest, revealing both the internal struggles that continued throughout the band's life (Dee Dee's drug addiction, Johnny's authoritarian approach to the band, Joey's shyness) and the external struggles.
The most fascinating section for me was the part about the Sex Pistols and how they changed punk. The Ramones formed before the Pistols and were a major influence on that group's sound. There's a great story about a young Johnny Rotten trying to get backstage during the Ramones first UK tour and being concerned that the band would beat him up. Of course, when the Pistols came to American, they shot their mouths off, spat on the crowd, swore and became legends. People often talk about the "Nevermind the Bullocks" album as a landmark for punk music, but the suggestion of the documentary was that the Sex Pistols themselves nearly destoryed punk. What was interesting, though, was the backlash against punk music that followed. The Ramones in particular suffered declining album sales, loss of radio airplay and concert bookings, as a result of the Sex Pistols' antics. So a band that many people believed were going to become the biggest thing in the world, were seriously hurt by the theatrics of another band. As Ramones' first manager put it: "it was easier not to book us."
He wore his passion for his woman like a thorny crown
Okay, either people aren't reveling in the irony of the Catholic Church's embarrassment over an unwed pregnant teenager (who plays Mary in the new Nativity movie) as much as I am or they're just not reading my blog.
Not to be discouraged, I have a wonderfully creepy new story about rural life that I heard only last night. This one takes place right here in Manitoba.
Okay, a lady I know (actually I lady I've met once, though my wife knows her) recently moved to rural Manitoba. She bought a large house in a small community and has enjoyed settling into small town life where she is known for a) being single and b) her large menagerie of cats.
The other night, as she was in bed, she woke up suddenly and saw a man standing over her bed. She screamed and, this part makes me laugh, covered her head with the covers. When she looked out from her blankets a few moments later there was no one in the room. Not believing in ghosts, she got up to investigate.
Sure enough there was some physical evidence that someone may have been in the house: a door which she was sure she had been locked was now open, some things had been moved from where she thought she'd put them, and the cats were acting weird. There was nothing stolen and, I suppose, nothing concretely pointing to an intruder. So she wondered if she hadn't dreamed the whole thing. She promptly went back to sleep.
The next day she told some people at work about the figure in her bedroom, stating that she may have dreamed the whole thing but wasn't sure. They convinced her that she should take this more seriously. She finally agreed to contact the local authorities about the possibility of a break-in.
When she did contact the police (or RCMP or whatever the heck thy have in the way of law enforcement out in the boonies) they didn't seem all that surprised. In fact, they said they thought they knew who it was - breaking in to people's houses and watching them sleep was something one of the locals did. They told her they'd look into it and, get this, "not to worry."
Not to be discouraged, I have a wonderfully creepy new story about rural life that I heard only last night. This one takes place right here in Manitoba.
Okay, a lady I know (actually I lady I've met once, though my wife knows her) recently moved to rural Manitoba. She bought a large house in a small community and has enjoyed settling into small town life where she is known for a) being single and b) her large menagerie of cats.
The other night, as she was in bed, she woke up suddenly and saw a man standing over her bed. She screamed and, this part makes me laugh, covered her head with the covers. When she looked out from her blankets a few moments later there was no one in the room. Not believing in ghosts, she got up to investigate.
Sure enough there was some physical evidence that someone may have been in the house: a door which she was sure she had been locked was now open, some things had been moved from where she thought she'd put them, and the cats were acting weird. There was nothing stolen and, I suppose, nothing concretely pointing to an intruder. So she wondered if she hadn't dreamed the whole thing. She promptly went back to sleep.
The next day she told some people at work about the figure in her bedroom, stating that she may have dreamed the whole thing but wasn't sure. They convinced her that she should take this more seriously. She finally agreed to contact the local authorities about the possibility of a break-in.
When she did contact the police (or RCMP or whatever the heck thy have in the way of law enforcement out in the boonies) they didn't seem all that surprised. In fact, they said they thought they knew who it was - breaking in to people's houses and watching them sleep was something one of the locals did. They told her they'd look into it and, get this, "not to worry."
"It is my belief, Watson, founded upon my experience, that the lowest and vilest alleys in London do not present a more dreadful record of sin than does the smiling and beautiful countryside....look at these lonely houses, each in its own fields, filled for the most part with poor ignorant folk who know little of the law. Think of the deeds of hellish cruelty, the hidden wickedness which may go on, year in, year out, in such places, and none the wiser."
Sherlock Holmes, "The Copper Beeches"
Friday, November 24, 2006
Oh, the sweet, sweet hypocrisy!
Over at IMDB.com (the only place I go for my news) they're reporting that the Pope, Pope Whatshisface, will not be attending a special premiere screening of the new film, The Nativity, to be held at the Vatican: "Sixteen-year-old Whale Rider actress Keisha Castle-Hughes stars as Jesus' mother Mary, but the fact the New Zealander is pregnant and unmarried is said to have embarrassed the Catholic Church."
Riiiiight. But I suppose that 2000 year old unmarried pregnant women are all right then? Maybe she was just using method acting...
or the rhythm method?
Riiiiight. But I suppose that 2000 year old unmarried pregnant women are all right then? Maybe she was just using method acting...
or the rhythm method?
Thursday, November 23, 2006
She's gonna turn me down and say 'Can't we be friends?'
On Monday, when I was at the UM, my boss walked into my office holding a CD. "You have to listen to this," he said. "You'll love it."
He hands me this:
"Ella and Louis" is one of the best jazz albums I've ever heard (and I have a lot of jazz albums). It's been on my iPod all week.
If you have never heard Ella Fitergerald sing, you have not heard singing. She very well may have possessed the perfect voice. Armstrong's distinctive voice, while by no means perfect, is completely his own. It's that individuality which compliments Ella's oh-my-goodness-what-a-voice so perfectly. Their chemistry is something you don't typically hear in duets, especially in our own hyper-sexual world where the two people singing must sound as if they're in the throws of passion. Ella and Louis have a familiarity and comfort with each other that make these oft-recorded songs their own. You have the sense that they just really like singing together.
He hands me this:
"Ella and Louis" is one of the best jazz albums I've ever heard (and I have a lot of jazz albums). It's been on my iPod all week.
If you have never heard Ella Fitergerald sing, you have not heard singing. She very well may have possessed the perfect voice. Armstrong's distinctive voice, while by no means perfect, is completely his own. It's that individuality which compliments Ella's oh-my-goodness-what-a-voice so perfectly. Their chemistry is something you don't typically hear in duets, especially in our own hyper-sexual world where the two people singing must sound as if they're in the throws of passion. Ella and Louis have a familiarity and comfort with each other that make these oft-recorded songs their own. You have the sense that they just really like singing together.
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
Monday, November 20, 2006
I can't do this all on my own, I know I'm no Superman
| Your Superhero Profile |
 Your Superhero Name is The Phantom Torch Your Superpower is Mystic Your Weakness is Atomic Explosions Your Weapon is Your Ether Gun Your Mode of Transportation is Unicorn |
This is pretty cool. I like the name, The Phantom Torch. Of course with a name like that you'd expect my powers to have something to do with fire, but hey, whatever. I shouldn't complain: I could have been called the Golden Anteater, right? Now the unicorn is the big drawback; a bit too grade 8 school girl for me. I imagine people who would ride unicorns would name it something like Rainbow or Flower, and the The Frickin' Phanton Torch don't ride nothing called Rainbow. Maybe I could sell it and get an Audi or an Aston-Martin. Surely a circus or zoo would pay big bucks for a trained unicorn.
Sunday, November 19, 2006
Would I could afford to buy my love a fine robe
This weekend was packed full of goodness: movies, plays, eating out and football. I got to hang out with some good people... and some not-so-good people too.
Just kidding. Everyone was lovely.
Rachel and I went to see a play at PTE, "Mum's the Word 2: Unhinged." It was good, quite funny in some parts. In a nut shell, five women take turns telling stories about being mothers and growing older so lot of the laughs were aimed at people who a) have had kids and b) are female. I was a little nervous about it turning into a 2 hour "menopause is horrible" play, but there were some really great insights and some very touching stories. And some full frontal middle-aged nudity.
This afternoon I went to enjoy the Grey Cup with some friends (some of whom are lurking here). It was great as I don't often get to see those people these days. Between working, marking, and thesising, I have had to put some friends on hold. So, a huge thank-you for welcoming me back with open arms.
While there, I got to test out the new Nintendo Wii. And while I'm still not convinced it's the gaming system I'd want for myself, the new controller design makes for some really great gaming. You move around so much, I think Nintendo has created something to combat childhood obesity. After playing a few games I was sweating and panting.
We played the Wii Sports, which included Boxing, Baseball, Tennis, Bowling and Golf. For some reason I was really good at everything. I was only beaten once in Boxing (yes, by Cheryl, but I'd just played right before and was tired), a game of bolwing (by three lousy points) and a couple games of tennis. I beat tons of people at boxing, mercied one person at Baseball (my 5 points in one inning stopped the game) and won a few rounds of tennis. I found the baseball win to be the funniest, as I was the kid who perptually put in left field, back when no one could hit the ball that far.
So, to the people I beat: BEAT YA. (It doesn't happen often, so forgive my gloating)
And to the people that beat me: I think you need to be tested for drugs.
Just kidding. Everyone was lovely.
Rachel and I went to see a play at PTE, "Mum's the Word 2: Unhinged." It was good, quite funny in some parts. In a nut shell, five women take turns telling stories about being mothers and growing older so lot of the laughs were aimed at people who a) have had kids and b) are female. I was a little nervous about it turning into a 2 hour "menopause is horrible" play, but there were some really great insights and some very touching stories. And some full frontal middle-aged nudity.
This afternoon I went to enjoy the Grey Cup with some friends (some of whom are lurking here). It was great as I don't often get to see those people these days. Between working, marking, and thesising, I have had to put some friends on hold. So, a huge thank-you for welcoming me back with open arms.
While there, I got to test out the new Nintendo Wii. And while I'm still not convinced it's the gaming system I'd want for myself, the new controller design makes for some really great gaming. You move around so much, I think Nintendo has created something to combat childhood obesity. After playing a few games I was sweating and panting.
We played the Wii Sports, which included Boxing, Baseball, Tennis, Bowling and Golf. For some reason I was really good at everything. I was only beaten once in Boxing (yes, by Cheryl, but I'd just played right before and was tired), a game of bolwing (by three lousy points) and a couple games of tennis. I beat tons of people at boxing, mercied one person at Baseball (my 5 points in one inning stopped the game) and won a few rounds of tennis. I found the baseball win to be the funniest, as I was the kid who perptually put in left field, back when no one could hit the ball that far.
So, to the people I beat: BEAT YA. (It doesn't happen often, so forgive my gloating)
And to the people that beat me: I think you need to be tested for drugs.
Thursday, November 16, 2006
I am a poor and wretched boy - a Chimbley, Chimbley sweep
I have a confession to make, a dirty little secret to share. My name is Mike and I am an addict.
I am completely and utterly addicted to Zwok. It's like a big snowball fight. You sign up, create a guy (my dude's handle is Tiny Pete) and the game places you on a random team with two other players somewhere in the world. You have 10 seconds to move, aim and choose what you're going to throw. If you get hit you lose lifepoints; if you hit someone you get score points. Seriously, it's great.
Try it. You'll thank me. Or hate me. Whatever.
In other news, I purchased another Decemberists Album: Her Majesty. It's great. Can't thank the lovely Jaimie enough for turning me on to them.
I am completely and utterly addicted to Zwok. It's like a big snowball fight. You sign up, create a guy (my dude's handle is Tiny Pete) and the game places you on a random team with two other players somewhere in the world. You have 10 seconds to move, aim and choose what you're going to throw. If you get hit you lose lifepoints; if you hit someone you get score points. Seriously, it's great.
Try it. You'll thank me. Or hate me. Whatever.
In other news, I purchased another Decemberists Album: Her Majesty. It's great. Can't thank the lovely Jaimie enough for turning me on to them.
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
I was meant for the stage
There was a weird vibe all day, like something, somewhere, just wasn't right. A couple of people whom I see every week weren't around for some reason. Things like that throw me off. As much as I hate to admit it, I am a creature of habit. Still, despite the disruptions, I had a highly amusing conversation with a couple of colleagues about the student body's same-old issues and the frustrations of "essay time." Some of may colleagues believe that I'm a cynic, others see me as a realist. If students only knew...
I went to class armed with decidedly low expectations. The past two weeks I've felt like Ben Stein in Ferris Bueller's Day Off ("Bueller? Bueller?") and, because they were handing in a paper for me, I figured it would be another 3 hours of me talking to myself. Surprisingly, that was not the case. One or two students spoke for the first time. Maybe they finally clued into the 15% participation grade?
I'm reading Elizabeth Bowen's The Demon Lover and Other Stories as part of a dissertation chapter. Bowen's a fantastic writer and easily the most interesting English "Blitz" writer. I was supposed to read her Death of the Heart during a class during my undergrad degree, but I don't think I actually read it ("Students don't always read thing?" you ask). I didn't read it until a year and a half ago and it quickly became an all-time favourite. Bowen's short stories, while quite different from that novel, deal with the psychological angst of Londoners living during the German bombings of Wolrd War 2. Some stories appear to be supernatural (like the titular "The Demon Lover"), others are realistic but just plain creepy. In short, I like Elizabeth Bowen.
I went to class armed with decidedly low expectations. The past two weeks I've felt like Ben Stein in Ferris Bueller's Day Off ("Bueller? Bueller?") and, because they were handing in a paper for me, I figured it would be another 3 hours of me talking to myself. Surprisingly, that was not the case. One or two students spoke for the first time. Maybe they finally clued into the 15% participation grade?
I'm reading Elizabeth Bowen's The Demon Lover and Other Stories as part of a dissertation chapter. Bowen's a fantastic writer and easily the most interesting English "Blitz" writer. I was supposed to read her Death of the Heart during a class during my undergrad degree, but I don't think I actually read it ("Students don't always read thing?" you ask). I didn't read it until a year and a half ago and it quickly became an all-time favourite. Bowen's short stories, while quite different from that novel, deal with the psychological angst of Londoners living during the German bombings of Wolrd War 2. Some stories appear to be supernatural (like the titular "The Demon Lover"), others are realistic but just plain creepy. In short, I like Elizabeth Bowen.
Monday, November 13, 2006
Satellite's gone up to the skies
Well, the weekend came and went. It was a good visit with the in-laws. Even the much maligned photo session went reasonably well. Although apparently I was a party-pooper for refusing to have a series of photos taken in a bathtub. *shrugs* I'm always told that i need to speak up more if there's something I don't want to do. Well, I spoke up. And I was a party-pooper.
I'm likely a bit of a party-pooper today too as I'm very grumpy. You see, I didn't think I had to work today. Manitoba observes Remembrance Day as a real holiday, but because Novemeber 11 fell on a Saturday, I figured the Monday was going to be the Stat and that I wouldn't have to come to the Univeristy of Manitoba (I didn't make this up either; my boss originally confirmed this). I had the day all planned out too. Relax in the morning, see my in-laws off, and then go work on my thesis. It turns out, however, that the UM closed Friday, so no day off for Mike. Mike was phoned on Saturday afternoon and told this.
No day off makes Mike grumpy.
I'm likely a bit of a party-pooper today too as I'm very grumpy. You see, I didn't think I had to work today. Manitoba observes Remembrance Day as a real holiday, but because Novemeber 11 fell on a Saturday, I figured the Monday was going to be the Stat and that I wouldn't have to come to the Univeristy of Manitoba (I didn't make this up either; my boss originally confirmed this). I had the day all planned out too. Relax in the morning, see my in-laws off, and then go work on my thesis. It turns out, however, that the UM closed Friday, so no day off for Mike. Mike was phoned on Saturday afternoon and told this.
No day off makes Mike grumpy.
Thursday, November 09, 2006
But Rankin/Bass is OUR mythology!!!
The other day in class I made a typically off-handed reference to try to illustrate a point. We were doing Romeo and Juliet and I was talkign about how Romeo goes away after the balcony scene with a kind of lover's high. "Like 'Ruldoph the Red Nosed Reindeer': "She thinks I'm cuuuddddeee!"
My heart sunk at the confused stares that met my observation.
"Anyone of you ever watched 'Ruldoph the Red Nosed Reindeer'?"
A few people nodded, but many shook their heads, still looking confused.
"Really?" I asked.
I weep for the future.
Now I understand that in a post-modern society the very idea of a "common background" is called into question. And I have taught Milton's Paradise Lost to students completely ignorant of the story of Creation and the Fall. I don't mean lack a thorough knowledge of Scripture, mind you. I mean, had never heard of Adam or Eve. But not knowing the story of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer and his effeminate dentist friend, Hermie, is just PLAIN WRONG. It is one of the bedrocks of our understandings of solitude and isolationism and the cruelty of our contemporary world. Who among has not felt like a Misfit Toy?
My heart sunk at the confused stares that met my observation.
"Anyone of you ever watched 'Ruldoph the Red Nosed Reindeer'?"
A few people nodded, but many shook their heads, still looking confused.
"Really?" I asked.
I weep for the future.
Now I understand that in a post-modern society the very idea of a "common background" is called into question. And I have taught Milton's Paradise Lost to students completely ignorant of the story of Creation and the Fall. I don't mean lack a thorough knowledge of Scripture, mind you. I mean, had never heard of Adam or Eve. But not knowing the story of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer and his effeminate dentist friend, Hermie, is just PLAIN WRONG. It is one of the bedrocks of our understandings of solitude and isolationism and the cruelty of our contemporary world. Who among has not felt like a Misfit Toy?
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
And I turned my amp up loud and I began to play
I was walking to the busstop the other morning and passed two girls standing on the blvd in front of their house. The grass was recently laid sod; you could still see the distinct shape of the individual pieces. I saw the older girl, who must have been about ten, pick something off the ground and put it in her mouth. I figured it was a candy she'd dropped or something like that until she turned to her sister and proclaimed, "It's real grass. I just tasted it." She then turned to her mother, who was exiting the house, and said, "I didn't think this grass was real, but I just ate some and it's really grass."
Words can't express the expression of... pride (?) on this mother's face when her daughter announced that the lawn tasted like "real grass." I can only imagine it'll be the same face she'll make when her daughter is left back a grade, which I expect shall happen a lot.
In other news: My in-laws are coming to visit this weekend. It'll be good to see them. Unlike cliched comedies, I get along quite well with my in-laws. It's kind of a Thanksgiving make up. I've heard that there might be turkey. I'd really like turkey. I'll try not to pout if it doesn't happen, but turkey would be good. It's not exactly a meal you can just order if you're out for dinner. We are also sitting for a family photo, which I'm looking forward to as much as a trip to the dentist.
Words can't express the expression of... pride (?) on this mother's face when her daughter announced that the lawn tasted like "real grass." I can only imagine it'll be the same face she'll make when her daughter is left back a grade, which I expect shall happen a lot.
In other news: My in-laws are coming to visit this weekend. It'll be good to see them. Unlike cliched comedies, I get along quite well with my in-laws. It's kind of a Thanksgiving make up. I've heard that there might be turkey. I'd really like turkey. I'll try not to pout if it doesn't happen, but turkey would be good. It's not exactly a meal you can just order if you're out for dinner. We are also sitting for a family photo, which I'm looking forward to as much as a trip to the dentist.
Monday, November 06, 2006
Why don't you write me
Sometimes I am woefully oversensitive. I realize this and I've come to accept it. I know that I read way too much into things people say and do. I agonize over people's often bizarre and contradictory behaviour. I re-examine conversations, trying to figure out what people were "really" trying to say to me. Like when he/she said "haven't seen you around lately" does that mean he/she actually looked for me or was just being nice? One day someone can act like my best friend and the then next time I see them hardly acknowledge I'm alive. This reeks havoc with my self esteem.
Saturday, November 04, 2006
If you believe they put a man on the moon
Sometimes I LOVE living in a province with so many rural residents. It makes for good fun. Case in point, this article, which details the panic caused in certain parts of southern Manitoba by health workers doing a haz-mat test in preparation for a possible avian flu outbreak. The conclusions drawn by these rural Manitobans upon seeing people in strange bio-hazard jump suits and breathing apparati? Space invaders. That's right, moon man had landed and were apparently going to invade Steinbach. So it seems that in some parts of this fair province it is still 1953. I hope a betamax copy of Spielberg's War of the World never makes its way to their gas station/convience store/video rental hub.
My favourite part of the article is that which mentions the many calls to "local UFO expert Chris Rutkowski". I understand "local UFO expert" to be a crafty euphamism for "unemployed person with time on his/her hands."
I realize that "news" found in any of the Sun newspapers is of as relative trustworthiness as something on the wall of a public restroom, but I have seen this confirmed by several other, more realible news sources.
My favourite part of the article is that which mentions the many calls to "local UFO expert Chris Rutkowski". I understand "local UFO expert" to be a crafty euphamism for "unemployed person with time on his/her hands."
I realize that "news" found in any of the Sun newspapers is of as relative trustworthiness as something on the wall of a public restroom, but I have seen this confirmed by several other, more realible news sources.
Must be the season of the witch
Wherein our narrator muses on things television
Thursday nights have too many good shows on now. It's like over kill. And my wife and I don't even watch/like some of the same shows, so we have to tape one channel while watching another: "Ugly Betty (Rachel)," "The Office (Mike)," "Grey's Anatomy (Rachel)," "CSI (both)," and "ER (Rachel)." Oh for the simpler times when on any given night there was only one or two shows that either of us liked.
Over on "The Office," probably my favourite show currently airing, I must say that Angela is my favourite character this year. She's so funny, like guarding her shoes for fear of someone stealing them in this week's episode. Oh, I laughed out loud at that. In fact, "The Office" is one of a very few shows that makes me actually LOL.
This week's "CSI" may have permanantly ruined "Firefly" for me, as Alan Tudyk (Wash) guest starred as a really creepy pedophile. I say that like there might be some non-creepy pedophiles, but what I mean is that he'd kind of embraced his pedophilia and tried to help the CSIs by laying out what he himself would do if he'd kidnapped some kids. Of course he was somehow involved in the actual kidnapping (though whether he was acting to harm the kids or simply making some really bad choices remained somewhat ambiguious). Tudyk is a really good actor, but I fear that whenever go back and re-watch "Firefly" or Serenity, I'll only see the CSI pedophile. I have a similar block with James Mason, whom I only see as creepy Humbert Humbert. Trying to get past that has been a constant struggle during my PhD research, which has required me to watch several earlier Mason films.
Thursday nights have too many good shows on now. It's like over kill. And my wife and I don't even watch/like some of the same shows, so we have to tape one channel while watching another: "Ugly Betty (Rachel)," "The Office (Mike)," "Grey's Anatomy (Rachel)," "CSI (both)," and "ER (Rachel)." Oh for the simpler times when on any given night there was only one or two shows that either of us liked.
Over on "The Office," probably my favourite show currently airing, I must say that Angela is my favourite character this year. She's so funny, like guarding her shoes for fear of someone stealing them in this week's episode. Oh, I laughed out loud at that. In fact, "The Office" is one of a very few shows that makes me actually LOL.
This week's "CSI" may have permanantly ruined "Firefly" for me, as Alan Tudyk (Wash) guest starred as a really creepy pedophile. I say that like there might be some non-creepy pedophiles, but what I mean is that he'd kind of embraced his pedophilia and tried to help the CSIs by laying out what he himself would do if he'd kidnapped some kids. Of course he was somehow involved in the actual kidnapping (though whether he was acting to harm the kids or simply making some really bad choices remained somewhat ambiguious). Tudyk is a really good actor, but I fear that whenever go back and re-watch "Firefly" or Serenity, I'll only see the CSI pedophile. I have a similar block with James Mason, whom I only see as creepy Humbert Humbert. Trying to get past that has been a constant struggle during my PhD research, which has required me to watch several earlier Mason films.
Thursday, November 02, 2006
And I will relate to you how our histories interweave
Got some exciting news today.
My colleague Michael Gilmour and I have been tossing around ideas for a book that we could co-edit. He's a professor of New Testament, has written on Bob Dylan and currently working on an MA thesis on Salman Rushdie. Well, yesterday at coffee break we came up with a pretty good idea (don't want to say too much at this stage) and then he contacted someone he's had an email conversation with at an American University Press with an informal proposal. And this guy expressed interest, saying that our idea was intriguing.
Whooo!
My colleague Michael Gilmour and I have been tossing around ideas for a book that we could co-edit. He's a professor of New Testament, has written on Bob Dylan and currently working on an MA thesis on Salman Rushdie. Well, yesterday at coffee break we came up with a pretty good idea (don't want to say too much at this stage) and then he contacted someone he's had an email conversation with at an American University Press with an informal proposal. And this guy expressed interest, saying that our idea was intriguing.
Whooo!
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