It's a wonder we can even feed ourselves

All right - stole this off someone else. Bolding the books I've read. Why? Because one of my gentle readers may, one day think to herself, "I wonder if Mike's read Lord of the Flies. Now you know. For the sake of my own nerdiocity, I have noted (*) titles I have read multiple times. To protect my nerdiocity, I have not indicated how many times.


The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown
The Catcher in the Rye - J.D. Salinger *
The Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy - Douglas Adams
The Great Gatsby - F.Scott Fitzgerald *
To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
The Time Traveler’s Wife - Audrey Niffenegger
His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (Harry Potter 6) - J.K. Rowling
Life of Pi - Yann Martel
Animal Farm: A Fairy Story - George Orwell
Catch-22 - Joseph Heller
The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon
Lord of the Flies - William Golding - and I never intend to!
Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen *
1984 - George Orwell
Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (Book 3) - J.K. Rowling
One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden
Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (Book 4) - J.K. Rowling
The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini
The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold
Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter 5) - J.K. Rowling
Slaughterhouse 5 - Kurt Vonnegut
Angels and Demons - Dan Brown
Fight Club - Chuck Palahniuk
Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone (Book 1) - J.K. Rowling
Neuromancer - William Gibson
Cryptonomicon - Neal Stephenson
The Secret History - Donna Tartt
A Clockwork Orange - Anthony Burgess
Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (Book 2) - J.K. Rowling
Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte *
Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
American Gods - Neil Gaiman
Ender’s Game (The Ender Saga) - Orson Scott Card
Snow Crash - Neal Stephenson
A Prayer for Owen Meany - John Irving *
The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe - C.S. Lewis *
Middlesex - Jeffrey Eugenides
Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien *
Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte *
Good Omens - Terry Pratchett, Neil Gaiman
Atonement - Ian McEwan
The Shadow Of The Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon
The Old Man and the Sea - Ernest Hemingway
The Handmaid’s Tale - Margaret Atwood *
The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath
Dune - Frank Herbert
The Unberable Lightness of Being - Milan Kundera
Hey Nostradamus! - Douglas Coupland
The Nature of Blood - Caryl Phillips
Children Playing Before a Statue of Hercules -Ed. David Sedaris
I Know This Much is True - Wally Lamb
Empire Falls - Richard Russo
American Pharaoh: Mayor Richard J. Daley - Adam Cohen & Elizabeth Taylor
Devil in the White City - Erik Larson
Seeing - Jose Saramango
White Teeth - Zadie Smith
Sophie's World - Jostein Gaardner
Ursula Under - ingrid Hill
Mountains Beyond Mountains - Tracy Kidder
In the Time of the Butterflies - Julia Alvarez
God of Small Things - Arundhati Roy
The World According to Garp - John Irving *
Great Expectations - Charles Dickens *
The Sword of Shannara - Terry Brooks
Metamorphosis- Franz Kafka *
Gone With the Wind - Margaret Mitchell
The Stainless Steel Rat - Harry Harrison
The Key to Rebecca - Ken Follett
How to Practice - the Dalai Lama
Pillars of the Earth - Ken Follett

Made from Annie's depair

It's about 2:30 on a Thursday afternoon and I'm tired of working. Today's a thesis day, so it's a lot of reading and writing about child neglect in post-war England (in other words: "fun, fun, fun").

It's so incredibly cold in my office today. It's like 31 degrees outside and here I sit in jeans and a sweater! Now I'm all for air-conditioning, but, like so many good things in this life, it needs to enjoyed in moderation. If you can safely store milk in your office, chances are it's just too damn cold.

I would venture outside to warm up (it's a lovely, sunny day here in Winnipeg) but unfortunately mini-University started up this week. Mini-U, as it's called by people in the know, is the U of M's summer day camp program for children. Kids can partake in any number of different programs, many revolving around a particular faculty or department. I know there used to a little Lawyers camp... thankfully that was disbanded.

What mini-U REALLY means is that the campus is overrun by thousands of obnoxious twerp-campers and the way-too-happy-to-be-working-with-children instructors. It's hard to walk anywhere without stepping on four or five kids and their backpacks, lunchbags, swimming clothes or whatever their SUV driving parents have sent along... and despite what some of my gentle readers might imagine, I don't actually enjoy hurting children; I just don't like them that much.

The children are dragged all around the school in the hopes of doing something fun. I can't imagine that they ever get to do anything fun - all the children look bored and surly. Come to think of it, I'm bored and surly. Maybe I'm actually at mini-U and I don't realize it.

Got one note to last all week I'll carry on regardless

I can't believe that it's July already. Man, where does the time go? If I could keep time in a bottle, I think I use it to get back some of that wasted Maury Povich time.

It was Canada Day weekend here in the great white north. We didn't really get up to anything special. Typically Canada Day celebrations are marked with folks dressing up in red and white, setting off fireworks and drinking beer. Only one of those remotely appeals to me. I'll let you guess which.

I did, however, get a chance to check out Superman Returns on Friday afternoon. I must say, I've had low expectations for this movie. My brother-in-law saw it earlier in the week and dubbed it "flawless." My expectations spiked just enough that when Rachel asked if I wanted to go, I said yes.

After some of the world's WORST previews (who gives the Wayans Brothers money to make movies?) the film began with the familiar rift of John Williams' "Superman theme" and employed the same credit sequence of the previous Christopher Reeve films. And I felt somewhat at ease. Unlike Christopher Nolan's Batman Begins, which essentially rebooted the Batman story, this Superman film is presented as a sequel to the Christopher Reeve films (well, at least Superman and Superman 2... there was no mention of either Richard Pryor or questing for peace). However, I couldn't help but feel the film was more a remake-cum-sequel: while back story had Superman saving the world before going away, his reintroduction to Metropolis was strangely reminiscent of the events of the 1978 film.

HERE BE SPOILERS!!!

We begin on the Kent farm; Superman crashes back to earth and is found by Martha Kent (in the 1978 film Jonathan Kent dies of a heart attack when Clark was a teenager). He goes from the farm to Metropolis and the Daily Planet. Though this time he is returning from a leave of absence, there's the same fumbling, bumbling Clark trying to figure out his surroundings. The first appearance of Superman is to safe Lois. In the original he saved her from a helicopter accident, this time from a plane/rocket malfunction. There's even a recreation of the famous Superman/Lois flight over the city scene. Lex Luthor's plan is almost identical to his plot from the first movie, involving destroying a large part of the continental United States, this time the East Coast as opposed to the West. He has a sympathetic moll (Kitty as opposed to Miss Teschmacher). There are differences, to be sure, the main one being Lois's fiancé and child. This creates the allusion that you're watching another movie, that things are different, but how different are they? Yes, the special effects allow for more spectacular things to happen, but the plot, like Superman himself, is solid and familiar. We know where it's going to go; we trust it because we've seen it save the day before. Unlike Batman, who has varying shades of grey and black, Superman is straightforward red, yellow and blue. He's simply good, simply honest, simply true.

Head on down the road to somewhere

It's been a pretty crappy week here in the (not really that) exciting world of Mike. The other day we got a phone call - a great man and a dear friend passed away. I knew John Braun and his wife Esther first through church, then through working together at Donwood manor here in Winnipeg a few summers ago. John and Esther were caretakers there and showed me the ropes. They were generous.

John had one of the deepest, loudest voices I've ever heard. Never scary-loud, always warm and friendly and inviting. It was perfect for reading aloud. Wheverever he would see me, he'd smile and call out "How you doing, Michael." Part of me is sad I'll never hear that again; another part of me knows I'll always hear it; in fact, I can hear it now.

The other crappy news is that an English professor, a fixture in this department, is not long for this world. Robin Hoople had retired from active teaching before I arrived at the UM, but his door was always open and he was always interested in how people were doing.

What in the world has happened to me?

Seems someone came along and pooped on my pity-party. It's funny that when you feel yourself getting down with stupid stuff, something comes along and makes you realize how meaningless it all is. For me, it was an email I got a few minutes ago: my sister's going to Arizona.

Now some people might think, "She's so lucky. Nice hot weather." Others might think, "Ugh, hot weather." But I haven't thought much about stuff like weather (other than to type those last two sentences. My sister's going to Arizona for a reason... to battle her eating disorder. And I can't imagine being more proud of her.

It's not a love, it's not a love, it's a love song

As Cindy Lauper said, "Confusion is nothing new."

I find people genuinely confusing. I mean, I'm not a stupid person, I don't think, but shouldn't I be able to figure out people's likely moods and attitudes based on previous conversations and encounters? I mean, if someone almost falls off their bike waving to you one day, is it unreasonable to assume they'll, I don't know, talk to you, treat you human, another day?

Don't get me wrong. I'm not looking to overthrow the social order and have everyone be my friend; I'm not trying to thrust myself in the popularity spotlight: I just want a little consistency. Example: with my wife's 2 month stress-leave sabbatical, I won't see a whole group of people. You think telling tell people "won't see you until August" might have registered something a bit more profound than the "Oh, really?" I got.

Meh, whatever. So, it's full speed ahead on the thesis. My advisor seems to really like where I'm taking this whole project. He's been amazing with the encouragement and the suggestions. I not only feel good about it, I don't even have a sense of dread. The last conversation left me excited. For the first time in a long time I felt like I was doing something exciting and interesting. For the past few months whether people ask what I'm writing about I feel like I'm going to put myself to sleep describing it. Right now I feel pumped. Well, as pumped as I ever feel.

It'll all work out eventually, Better off with him than here with me

It's a gray day. The sky's overcast. It might be raining. I can't tell for sure.

I'm sitting here in my new office. It's a big, bright room over looking much of the university. My desk faces three large windows. With the gloomy day, it's not too bad, but yesterday, with its abundance of sunshine, it was a little like staring into the sun. I didn't get much in the way of natural light in my hovel (or "hole" - thanks Abby) of an office.

Along with the sunshine, I have a little round conference table and 4 chairs all to myself. I don't foresee any visitors, so maybe I'll rotate the chairs myself so that at least they're being used.

And the Sunday shines down on San Francisco Bay

I made the mistake of dating myself the other day. I met a friend's boyfriend after hearing about the poor guy for the better part of a year.
"So, you really do exist," I said. "I was beginning to think this was a Snuffleupagus thing."
I was met with a confused "Snuffleupaguses aren't real?" from my friend... And then I realized how things change.

See, when I watched Sesame (back in the 70s) Big Bird was the only person on the block who saw Snuffy. The adults would constantly (and conveniently) walk out of the room just as Snuffy appeared, teaching an entire generation of children frustration and disappointment. I'll never forget the episode that a sleepwalking Snuffy was spotted by Bob, but, alas, Snuffy had a sheet over his head (at least I think he was sleeping, maybe he was on his way to Klan rally) and Bob's description of a "big, white creature" didn't match up with Big Bird's friend. This same bait and switch technique was also employed on the Canadian hit "The Polka Dot Door" with the elusive Polkaroo. The main difference, however, was that the one host who stepped out actually believed in the existence of the Polkaroo and was disappointed not to have seen it... him... whatever the heck it was supposed to be.

Snuffy wasn't seen until 1985. I don't know if the Polkaroo was ever seen. When Snuffy's existence was finally revealed to the other characters it had something to do with abuse and child molestation, children not keeping secrets, or hanging around with hairy elephants or something... the 80s were a particularly paranoid time and, clearly, imaginary friends were not to be trusted.

But the whole Snuffleupagus thing got me thinking how much better my Sesame Street was then the Sesame of Street of later years.

We didn't have Elmo, a hyperactive plush toy with a speech impediment. Seriously, if Sesame Street is meant to teach children, what's the lesson with Elmo? Talk like a baby and people will think it's cute? We were happy to have Oscar, a green sock living in a trashcan.

We learned about death when Mr. Hooper died in 1982. Poor Mr. Hooper.

Luis and Maria? So the two Hispanic characters have to get married? When I watched Sesame Street Maria was hot for David, a black man who... actually just disappeared from the show.

There was no ambiguity as to Bert and Ernie's relationship. Grown men could be friends and roommates without labels and accusations.

Ah, simpler times.

At the dark end of the street

I read an article on Audio Commentaries over at AVClub.com It identifies the 15 different types of Commentators you can get on a DVD. As someone who likes audio commentaries, and usually treasures the insights of directors, actors and film critics, I found the whole thing pretty funny. There are "types" - the Academic, the Party crew, the Indifferent Cast members - but I think audio commentaries are one of the things that make DVD such a great format. Sure there's more than enough examples of directors with no sense of historical proportion talking about their films, or hacks who talk about their grade Z flick like it's Citizen Kane, but sometimes those make for fun commentaries too. So, in light of the article, I thought I'd run through a few of my favourite audio commentaries. So, in no particular order.

1) Brief Encounter, w/ Bruce Eder. The AVClub would cast Eder's thorough and insightful commentary into the Irritating Academic Category, but he adds so much to the film in regards to contextualizing the material.

2) Goonies, w/ director Richard Donner, Sean Astin, Josh Brolin, Jeff Cohen , Kerri Green, Corey Feldman, Martha Plimpton, Jonathan Ke Quan. Forget about the fact the 2/3 of these former child actors fell off the face of the earth; forget about the fact that Astin leaves part way through the film and NEVER COMES BACK: this train-wreck of an audio commentary is worth listening to in order to hear Cory Feldmen yell EVERYTHING HE SAYS! You'd think a guy who spent a good part of the 90s dressed up like his hero, Michael Jackson, would NOT be interested in drawing attention to himself.

3) "Buffy," "Angel," and/or "Firefly", w/ Joss Whedon. There are a number of different people who provide commentary on the Mutant Enemy titles (Marti Noxon, David Greenwalt, David Fury), but the episodes with Joss are usually the most insightful. Yes, the false humility-bordering-on-self-deprecating gets a little old, but when he's talking about the show it's clear that he knows what he wants to do and how to do it. Few shows developed season-long story-arches as well (or, frankly, at all) as Joss Whedon shows. To hear Joss explain his vision is a treat. If only he'd tell a little bit more about SMG! I mean, she's rarely mentioned in the commentaries (except how hard she works) and she's NEVER featured in the blooper reel... What's the story, Whedon!

4) "Freak and Geeks" w/ cast. "Freaks and Geeks" was a great show. The DVD set is worth a purchase for the audio commentaries if nothing else. Some tracks are basic "director/writer" stuff, but the real gems are the ones with cast commentary, because time and again people bring up the self-perceived sexual prowess of one Samm Levine!

Honestly, everyone mentions how Samm would always be found hitting on the ladies. That kid hit on anything with boobs. My favourite is a girl-cast only track where the ladies swap Levine stories. It is very, very funny.

5) Clerks w/ Kevin Smith, a bunch of other people you've never heard of, plus a very high, sometimes sleeping, Jason Mewes. Given Mewes long-documented history of drug abuse this probably should qualify as a cautionary tale of the dangers of narcotics... but it's just so damn funny. Recorded in a hotel room while they were shooting Mallrats, this commentary is like a high school party gone bad - people are incoherent, the stories ramble, no one seems to be at their best, and there are a bunch of people you can't figure out why they're there. I love that Kevin Smith has continued to use and include his New Jersey friends, but do I have to hear them on the audio commentary? There's one guy introduced as "the resident View Askew historian." Imagine being saddled with that title. Your friend creates a reasonably successful film and your claim to fame is remembering crap about that film? Ugh. Added to this are the innumerable references to people we don't know (or care about): DP Dave, Walt, the Skipper, Mary Anne, who cares? And a stoned Mewes nodding off and snoring during his own scenes is pretty funny.

It's the same old song, but with a different meaning since you've been gone

I've never been able to get down with things that are popular. I have unique tastes. I understand this, and have chosen to live with the consequences. Usually those consequences are minor: being unable to have even a vague conversation about shows like “Everyone Loves Raymond” or “Will and Grace” or putting up with raised eyebrows and snickering when I talk about shows like “MST 3K”. Nothing serious. In fact, the people I tend to hang out with have their own unique tastes – they’re not the same as mine, but we come from the common ground of understanding.

When I started university, I lived in dorm and the consequences are a bit more pronounced. "Trying" doesn't even begin to describe the experience. Whenever I'd go down to the lounge to watch something on TV, I was reminded that I don't have the same tastes that other people have: I don't watch hockey, I don't like sports, and the idea of watching porn in a ROOM FULL OF OTHER GUYS... well, let's just say that that's hardly my idea of fun. Occasionally I'd find myself alone in the lounge and able to watch what I wanted. However when one of my floormates stumbled in drunk, I'd be forced to explain why I was watching a samurai film, lucha libre or anime. "What's this *#!%?" became sort of a greeting.

As I was walking home the other night I was suddenly struck with a feeling I hadn't really felt since those days in Willison Hall - that I have nothing in common with the people around me. It was Sunday night, which, if you're from Winnipeg you know, is "Cruise Night"! People who have spent a lot of money supping up or restoring their fancy-schmancy cars drive down Portage Ave - some times fast to show off speed, some times slow to allow a good look. But it's so much more than just driving. People gather in empty parking lots all along Portage to WATCH PEOPLE DRIVE BY. They bring out lawn chairs, they sit in the back of pick up trucks, they bring the whole family out to observe traffic. As I walked past one parking lot there were three cars in a row with their hoods up. Tall burly men were having an animated discussion about carburetors and V8s ... when I realized they weren’t talking about that tasty vegetable juice, I felt very alone.

Call me crazy, but I don't understand the appeal of cruise night at all. I can drive- it's hardly one of my favourite things, but I do it - but the idea of driving around to watch other people drive around seems... silly?

Listen to me, baby, that's all you gotta do

My stupid back's better today. Okay, there was some grunting and grumbling while I tried to get out of chairs, but nothing too serious. And after sitting for a long period of time, I tend to walk like an old man (shuffling along with the grumbling) for about three minutes. I continued the pills and heat. I'll be fine by Monday, I'm sure. If not, then the dread Doctor.

Ever been really anxious to do something or see something, that when the chance finally came, you weren't sure you wanted to? I've being waiting over 10 years to see this film



It's a French gangster film called Le Samourai (1967) It's directed by Jean-Pierre Meville and stars Alain Delon as hitman with a rigourous code of ethics who is betrayed by his employers. John Woo cites it as the major influence on his masterpiece The Killer (1989) - imdb.com goes so far as to call The Killer a remake. Back in university I discovered John Woo (along with about a thousand other directors); I love The Killer, and I had always heard about how incredible and influential Le Samourai is. I knew I'd love Le Samourai too.

So I tried to track it down. And I failed. It wasn't the typical "Blockbuster fare." I did come across a tape of it in a store in Winnipeg, but didn't have time to rent it. When I returned, it was out and it remained out for weeks. I didn't want to get so crappy 3rd generation copy from a tape trader or a version taped off a French channel (CBC did air it once, but my French is limited to "Good morning" and "I like hamburgers"), I wanted as pristine a print as possible with proper subtitles.

This year, with some birthday money, I ordered the new Criterion edition of Le Samourai . It arrived Tuesday. I carefully unwrapped the plastic and removed the stickers. I opened the case and read the 48-page booklet. I put the disc into the DVD player... and couldn't bring myself to watch it. This has been a 10 year journey, a 10 year journey that will end the moment I press "play" on the remote control. Is the greatest joy in the wanting, the expectation?

Smack, crack, bushwacked

I threw my back out today. I'd like to say that it happened when I was doing something cool - lifting weights or saving small children from a burning building. Truth is it happened while I was refolding and straightening a blanket in the living room. I had just folded it all neat and pretty and set it over the new armchair; when I leaned over to smooth it out, my back spasmed and my legs went dead. It was like they just stopped working, like my nerves gave out on me. I went down, falling face first into the seat of the chair. I tried for minutes that seemed like hours to straighten out and stand up. Evenutally I made it to couch, where I could lay flat out. The next hour or so was fighting to stand, walk, sit, reach... I got a heating pad, I swallowed pills. Walking required carefully balancing on the wall, the counter and backs of chairs. I couldn't bend over to pick up the remote once I'd made it back to the living room. I couldn't reach for my drink once I sat down.

It's been getting better all night. I've continued with the heat and the pills. I've stretched. I sat in the chair that started the whole (so it knew that I didn't hold it responsible) and watched television. I can move pretty well now. It still hurts, but walking doesn't demand the same forethought. I can do it under my own power... it just takes a little more time than usual.

Lemme show you what it's all about

Four jobs I have had in my life:
1) I worked in the Thrift Store all through highschool
2) I've worked at various videostores in various locations
3) I currently work for the UM Press doing... stuff
4) I was teach English Literature

Four movies I would watch over and over:
1) Casablanca
2) Duck Soup
3) Seven Samurai
4) Life and Death of Colonel Blimp

Four places I have lived:
1) Toronto
2) Oshawa
3) Waterloo -in res for a year, then an apartment
4) Winnipeg

Four TV shows I love to watch:
1) Veronica Mars
2) Buffy the Vampire Slayer
3) House
4) and I'm rediscovering Mad About You.

Four places I have been on vacation:
1) Miami
2) England
3) Nfld
4) Nova Scotia - though I'm not sure visitng relatives actually counts as a "vacation"

Four of my favourite foods:
1) Spagetti - all day, every day
2) Chicken
3) these potatoes that Rachel makes
4) green currie Thai soup

Four places I would rather be right now:

1) Anywhere
2) Anywhere
3) Anywhere
4) Anywhere
.... you get the idea

Something won't let me make love to you

I still don't know what I think about X-men 3. I see the agruments of people who hated it (and I agree with them too), but I also see why people would love it. I still think I enjoyed it, but I'm learning not trust myself.

I finally finished Season 6 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer this weekend and started Season 7. Season 6 was like a kick in the gut, but a good kick in the gut. Beloved characters left or died or turned all veiny and apocalyptically evil. Now I've seen some of Season 7 already - we purchased them out of order, for a reason that's simply too long and conviluted to explain here, and I started with what we had - but I hadn't seen the first episode of that season. While Season 7 episode 1 of Buffy sets up some of the themes and the main villain for the rest of the season, in one of the greatest bits of Buffy, the new "big bad" becomes all the big bads from previous seasons - Adam, the Mayor, Gloria, Drusilla and, best of all, the Master - revealing itself to be the source of all evil. As these other villains were manifestations of this First Evil, this First manifests as them.

In the story Buffy returns (with her younger sister) to the highschool (now rebuilt) where the series began. Seeing a confident, mature Buffy walking the hallways of Sunnydale High made me realize just how good this show was. To effectively transition characters from highschool to adulthood so well is unheard of. I can't think of another show that managed to do this. Welcome Back Kotter, Saved by the Bell, even Degrassi all fall short of taking teenagers into their twenties and beyond while maintaining a certain quality.*










*I realize that the word "quality" is rarely used in relation to either Welcome Back Kotter or Saved by the Bell.

I should go to bed, but the voice in my head says, what the hell?

There was a preview for Superman Returns that ran before X-men: Last Stand. I'm having a hard time accepting a Superman who looks like Max Fisher.


Maybe I'll go see it if he uses his super-powers to try to win Miss Cross. Superman to Luthor "I saved Latin. What did you ever do?"

Of course, the Fisher-esque Superman aside, there's the whole, creepy thing with Marlon Brando coming back from the dead to play Jor-El again. My feelings are if you're going to come back to life for a role it should be one you haven't played before. Call me a traditionist, but if you're dead, you should be allowed to re-play a part. Even if you are Marlon Brando.

Keep your pretty head low

After supper (a tasty bit of Greek takeout), I sat down at the computer to check my email, and who should I have a message from? Oprah. That's right, Oprah emailed me. Okay, the message wasn't from Oprah herself - I'm sure she's far too busy picking books for her club to read or offering to pay for Jennifer Aniston's wedding - but it is from Oprah's people. The email invites me to tune into an upcoming show that will feature the legendary women of the Oscars. Apparently Emma Thompson and Meryl Streep will be appearing as well as "other big names for the Academy Awards."

Boy, does Orpah know me or what? There's nothing I'd like better than to sit around and watch as a group of Academy Award winning actresses sit around and pretend to be real people while Orpah shouts "You go, girlfriend" at the top of her really expensive lungs.

The biggest mystery as far as I'm concerned is why did I get this message at all? How did she get my email address? I don't watch Orpah; I've never been to her site; I haven't even bought any of her "Picks" at the local bookstore .Is Oprah now employing the same market savvy plans as the makers of Herbal Viagra and LostErectus? Did she think to herself, "I know what'll get more people to watch me: SPAM!"

Honestly, I'm more familiar with Oprah from SNL skits and the detailed reenactments my sister used to do for me over the phone. I've never understood my sister's bizarre fascination with Ms Winfrey. I figured if I ever did hear from Oprah the message would be more along the lines of "could you tell your sister to stop being so obsessed with me? I really don't want to be her friend." If the countless magazines and books that littered my sister's bedroom didn't make me tune in, if the two foot wall of tapes ambiguously labeled "Good Oprah" and "Really Good Orpah" around the ol’ family rec-room didn't pique my curiosity, then what's an email going to do? I mean, it didn’t even have any graphics. Come on, Oprah, have a little pride in your spam.

Let her talk about the things you can't explain

I realize I've been a little lax about updating this. Everyday I sit at my computer and think to myself, "I should write something in my blog." And then I can't think of a single thing to write.

There's nothing interesting going on in my life right now: no adventures, no profound insights into the world. That's not to say I'm not busy. I am. In fact, lately I'm obscenely busy with PhD stuff, but no one wants to hear about that.

So I'll respond to Professor Van Helsing's quiz which I found over at IMDB


1) What film made you angry, either while watching it or in thinking about it afterward?

The question seems to assume that only one film has made me angry. That's just not true. Films that have made me angry include: Star Wars Episode 2, The Portrait of a Lady, some Benoît Jacquot film that I saw at the TIFF. There was something recently that left me enraged... but it can't think of the title. Apparently I was so mad I've repressed it.

2) Favorite sidekick

Patricia Franchini (played by Jean Seabring)in Godard's Breathless.

3) One of your favorite movie lines

"Do I laugh now, or wait 'til it gets funny?"

4) William Holden or Burt Lancaster?

William Holden.

5) Describe a perfect moment in a movie

Well, the hill of beans speech at the end of Casablanca is pretty damn close to perfect.

6) Favorite John Ford movie

Um, I'm probably supposed to like Stagecoach more, but I prefer My Darling Clementine.

7) The inverse of a question from the last quiz: What film artist (director, actor, screenwriter, whatever) has the least–deserved good reputation, artistically speaking. And who would you replace him/her with on that pedestal?

I think Laurence Olivier is an extremely overrated actor.

8) Barbara Stanwyck or Ida Lupino?

Barbara Stanwyck.

9) Showgirls-- yes or no?

A hesitant yes.

10) Most exotic or otherwise unusual place in which you ever saw a movie

Sadly, the drive in. It wasn't very 'exotic, but it did smell like urine... and there was a lighting storm

11) Favorite Robert Altman movie

MASH or Gosford Park

12) Best argument for allowing rock stars to participate in the making of movies

Phil Collins in A Hard Day's Night. Actually, A Hard Day's Night makes a pretty good argument too.

13) Describe a transcendent moment in a film (a moment when you realized a film that just seemed routine or merely interesting before had become become something much more)

First viewing of Casablanca or Duck Soup.

14) Gina Gershon or Jennifer Tilly?

Well, they both seem a little crazy, but if I had to pick one I guess it'd be Jennifer Tilly.

15) Favorite Frank Capra movie

It's a Wonderful Life is the best of an outstanding body of work.

16) The scene you most wish you could have witnessed being filmed

Anything from Casablanca

17) Robert Ryan or Richard Widmark?

Widmark.

18) Name a movie that inspired you to walk out before it was finished

"Inspired"? I've only walked out of one movie that I can recall... that Benoit Jacquot film

19) Favorite political movie

All the President's Men or Putney Swope.

20) Your favorite movie poster/one-sheet, or the one you’d most like to own

I don't know... I guess the one for Kubrick's Lolita.

21) Jeff Bridges or Jeff Goldblum?

Bridges.

22) Favorite Ken Russell movie

Women in Love

23) Accepting the conventional wisdom that 1970-1975 marked a golden age of American filmmaking in which artistic ambition and popular acceptance were not mutually exclusive, what for you was this golden age’s high point? (Could be a movie, a trend, the emergence of a star, whatever)

Blah, I dunno... the evolution of the director.

24) Grace Kelly or Ava Gardner?

Grace Kelly.

25) With total disregard for whether it would ever actually be considered, even in this age of movie recycling, what film exists that you feel might actually warrant a sequel, or would produce a sequel you’d actually be interested in seeing?

Well, it's not Rocky 6, that's for sure. I think a sequel to The Breakfast Club would be tempting.

What if I ride? What if you walk?

A sincere thank-you to those who sent e-cards and birthday wishes. They were really appreciated. I mean it. But birthdays? *grunt* More freakin' trouble than they're worth.

What does it mean when the only actual, physical card you've received in the mail is one from a lady who babysat you when you were 2-3 years old? Should my blood family have figured out the mail system by now?

I did get the new Leonard Cohen book of poetry from my wife (who knows me too well) and for a brief moment I was transported to a time, several years ago, in Waterloo. I'd head down to Kitchener in order to scour the second hand book stores for Cohen's books. I have an impressive collection: Let Us Compare Mythologies, Spicebox of Earth, Death of a Lady's Man, and others whose spines are too far away to read. Eventually I had most everything. Cohen retreated to Mount Baldie. The trips to downtown Kitchener were never quite the same.

But if I could you know I would Just hold your hand and you'd understand

So, it's the Victoria Day long week. And we can all let our our primal "whoots" because a long time ago, a dumpy, sour-pussed old lady ruled England and 1/4 of the known world. And now, a century or so later, people in the New World can skip work to do "royal" things, like camp, Bar-b-que and drink beer. I mean, look at this face.
Doesn't it scream "Take a day off and party"?

Personally, I think Victoria Day should be a bigger deal than it currently is. Sure people get a day off work and that's all well and good, but aside from the increasingly infrequent firework displays, what sets Victoria Day apart? Nothing. If we're really being honest with ourselves, it's a holiday in desperate need of a make over - much like ol' Queen Vic herself. I think we need to add to the mythology of day in order to give it a little extra umph. Families should decorate their houses with lace and crinoline and hang larger portraits of Queen Vic. Not only are these portraits festive, it would give families something to put presents underneath. We could all gather 'round the fireplace for a glass of hot punch and a rousing round of Victoria carols. Of course decorations and songs are all well and good, but in order to lift a holiday from the mire of the mundane, work-a-day holidays (like Arbor Day and Remembrance Day), we need to target children.

Children should be filled with anxiety for a good month before May twenty-whatever, wondering if Queen Victoria be visiting while they were sleeping to leave them goodies (boiled sweets or humbugs) or coal. Actually, Santa still has the coal market cornered, right? What's worse than a lump of coal? Traditional English cuisine! Parents can threaten their chidlren all year long, "If you don't behave, Queen Victoria's gonna leave you nothing but Bubbles and Squeek."

That's right, I'm barely alive

I knew it! "Who could ever love a Beast?"

You scored as The Beast. Your alter ego is The Beast! But that is only a name... you are kind hearted and sweet, people just misunderstand you. Which Disney Character is your Alter Ego? created with QuizFarm.com

If every word I said could make you laugh...

A friend told me about a video with a Great White Shark jumping 10 feet out of the water while trying to get a seal... I watched the video.

Scary shark

I'm never going near the ocean again.

Happy birthday, Jaimie. Thanks for making me wet myself in terror.

And there's no one there to comfort you

I like television. A lot. And I watch a lot of television. Part of the fun of watching television are the season finales, where all the storylines of the season (however much or little there was in the way of an arch) come to ahead. They're either resolved or brought to a moment of crisis to entice you back next season: Ross will say Rachel's name at his wedding to Emily; Buffy will die to save her sister's life; high school students will graduate (usually with some sort of loud, raucous party).


So far I've seen a couple of decent finales, but the second season ending of Veronica Mars might have been the greatest finale I've ever seen. Somehow, in a mere 42 minutes, it managed to weave innocent nostalgia, heart-wrenching suspense and a sense of closure with the hint of mystery for next season. I've said it before to whoever will listen, and I'll say it again: Veronica Mars is the best show on network television.


On the other side of the fence, the Smallville season finale had me a little perplexed: where do we go from here? It wasn't bad per se, but I've really turned my opinion around on this show this season. I used to love it, watched all the DVDs, wandered around humming that damned catchy theme song to myself; now, I'm wondering how close the series is from collapsing under the weight of its own limitations. Clark Kent's coming of age has a limited shelf-live. He's already graduated high school, he's found out about his alien birth and the secrets of Krypton. So how much longer can they delay putting him in the blue leotard? This season cliff-hanger saw Lex being replaced with Zod and Clark trapped in the Phantom Zone. We know, cognitively, that most characters are "safe" from real harm because of their importance in the Superman universe. We know Clark has to get out; we know Lois isn't going to die in the plane crash. Okay... he needs to become Superman now. But of course once that happens the appeal of the show is over. And what happened to Lana? She can't take Clark's lies to protect her, but is fine with Lex's unique ethics? She's become a really annoying character this season; not even her obvious hotness redeems her anymore.

But she never escaped my mind, and I just grew

Spring in Winnipeg means one certain thing: construction. Every year, after the snow melts away, fleets of trucks and workers in dirty jeans and orange vests descend on the city to "fix" the potholes.

Now I don't know who plans this massive infrastructural undertaking, but I really have to question their wisdom when it comes to organizing the work. For those of you who don't know, Winnipeg is divided by a major river. There are several bridges scattered along the Assiniboine that one can use to get from one side to the other. If you're driving from the south of the city to the centre or, heaven forbid, the north, you have a few major roadways that lead to these bridges. And every year when the flowers are starting to bloom and the trees beginning to bud, city workers rip up all those roadways... at the same time. Rather than use the majority of the workforce to fix two or three major roadways quickly, the city decides to use small teams to start work on 20 different projects. So no matter which way you choose to drive, you're stuck while a huge cement mixer attempts an eighty-seven point turn. And, as an aside, a big thank you to the genius who invented the beeping device that lets people know when big trucks are backing up. Genius!

When I was in kindergarten I learned a number of valuable lessons that I have carried with me during my 30 plus years on this stupid, God-forsaken orb we call "Earth"; perhaps the simplest and most profound was this: don't move on something else until you finished with what you're doing. Ah, childish logic. You want to play with blocks? Well, you have to put the Magic Doodle away first. You want to tear up Waverley? You have to put Pembina Highway back in order first.

But hidden in his coat is his Red Right Hand

I haven't given much more thought to being evil, other than a passing thought during a conversation with a friend about a wedding. I assured her that quietly grumbling about particpating in something you don't want to do isn't evil... true evil would be making something up to get out of something that you know you should do. Or doing it, grumbling to everyone who will listen and ridiculing all parties involved while you're doing it.

I continue to be perplexed by the oddities of others. Nothing I really feel like sharing at the moment. Just thought I'd shoot that out there.

Hey you, out there i the cold

I had the weirdest thought today: what if I could just be evil? Not "mean" or "bad" or "grumpy" but EVIL - cartoonishly wicked. You know, steal candy from children, kick old ladies down stairs, take over the world. I wonder, what it would take? Do really evil people choose to be evil? Did Lex Luthor wake up one morning and say, "I think I should start being evil today. Right after breakfast"?

I think evil Mike could solve a lot of my problems. I wouldn't have to do nice things for people - lend them books, offer to proofread essays. Evil-Mike wouldn't offer to proofread people's papers. Or he would offer and then he would add a whole bunch of mistakes and evidence of plagiarism. Life could be so much simpler, if I was evil. People annoy me - have them killed in their sleep. People treat me badly - put their legs in cement and drop them off a pier.

I suppose being evil would mean losing a lot of my friends. But, on the other hand, I believe I would pick up some henchmen. Most evil guys have henchmen, right? I suppose that's like having friends. It's all balance, isn't it?

Nothing ever grows in this rotten old hole

10 interesting and completely useless Mike facts (in no particular order):
1) Mike has been known to drink coffee in the shower.
2) Mike knows the words to far too many bad songs.
3) Despite some claims to the contrary, Mike shot neither the sheriff nor the deputy. He contends it was someone else
4) Growing up, Mike's across the street neighbour (and coworker of his father) is/was Bob Marley's brother-in-law..
5) Mike has an inexplicable love of teen comedies.
6) Mike read novels in kindergarten.
7) Mike has a deathly fear of people singing to him in restaurants.
8) Mike, once, many years ago, dunked a basketball in a regulation basket.
9) Mike was in the audience for a show for YTV that was produced by Cory Hart's brother.
10) Mike saw Pulp Fiction a staggering 13 times in the theatre; he never paid full price.

Then like a sinner before the gates of heaven I’ll come crawling on back to you

A strange day, with even stranger revelations. Some people are such disappointments.

My sister had a rollerblading accident last night. Sounds pretty serious:

Scraped her leg badly. Went home treated it and could feel something under the skin. Went to the walk-in clinic near her and they sent her to emerg.
They removed 17 small stones and they've told her the tissue damage is so severe she will have to have skin grafting done. They will do it next week.

Gross. Skin grafting? Wonder where they'll take the skin from? If it's from her butt, will she have a bum leg?* Still, this confirms my all fears about going outdoors and doing, you know, "exercise" - running, biking, rollerblading, whatever. Not worth it if you ask me. Walking: now that's more like it. Less likely to fall down. If God had wanted us rolling all over the place, he would have given us wheels... you know, actually attached to our feet, as opposed to the kind we purchase and put on voluntarily.

*(NB, that was my wife's joke, and it gave her such pleasure that I felt inclined to include it).

Sam-I-Am and Star-you-are

I can't believe it's May already. Ugh. May means lots of things, some good, some bad. May means summer's almost here; May also means I turn a year older.

So, after watching them film for many hours Saturday afternoon, I ended up going back out that evening when the cast and crew returned from dinner. I never did get to meet Anna Paquin, or Breckin Meyer, but I enjoyed watching them work. I stayed out there until nearly eleven o'clock watching them rehearse and shoot one scene. There was even a punch that had to be choreographed. The punch was a much debated topic on the set for quite awhile. How should Anna punch Breckin? Should it be a tight shot, a wild swing, a slap? The scene, punch and all, was wonderfully tense and Anna Paquin ad-libbed a line that nearly made me wet my pants... and I'm sure that would have impressed her.

A bunch of neighbours gathered to watch, which was cool. I think I got to meet more of the people on my street in that one day then I have in 7 years of living here. Not everyone stayed for the whole shoot, but a number of us did. By the time they wrapped, the crew had already cleaned up everything not being used for that particular shot. As we all shuffled back to our respective houses and as the cast shuffled back to their trailers or hotel rooms or whatever, only the camera, monitor and the boom mic were left to clean up. By Sunday morning you'd never have known anything interesting had been going on.

And life just keeps slipping away....

It's just my job five days a week

So, it's Anna Paquin.

They've been shooting for three days now and today was the day they decided to shoot outside stuff. I went out to take a look and gradually find myself in the company of the director and some of the production crew. I got to watch monitors. Weird. I stood around and watched Anna and Breckin shoot three relatively short scenes, and that took 3 hours.

She's really pretty close up. Everyone on the crew commented how cool and down to earth she is. One of the guys (I think her brother) offered to introduce me to her when they were on a break, but that never materialized as they never seemed to really break. Besides, while it would be cool to meet her, what could I possibly say? "I liked you in X-men, or the Piano, or Jane Eyre"? Smooth.

Breckin Meyer's a really funny guy; quite witty.

See you got our fist out; Say your piece and get out

So, they're shooting a movie across the street from me. Actually, I don't know who "they" are. I haven't seen anyone I recognize (and let's face it, if I have one true talent it's recognizing people from movies). All I've seen is one group of people working very hard and another group of people sitting on my neighbor's lawn and looking unreasonably proud of themselves. Oh, and a lot of babushkaed extras wandering up and down the block and smoking.

It could be a couple of different projects shooting in Winnipeg right now. Apparently Ben Kingsley's in town shooting a "dark gangster film" in the Sexy Beast vein (which is great 'cause I'm tired of seeing him playing cartoony bad guys in B-grade kids' flicks). Anna Paquin's supposed to be in town shooting Blue State with Breckin Meyer. Or it could just be some crap Canadian made-for-tv thing I'll never see. If I had my preference, it'd be Anna. Even if she comes with Breckin.

Changed my hairstyle so many times now, don't know what I look like

Spent a few hours Sunday afternoon at Providence College's graduation ceremony. It's the first year I've attended, because it's the first year I've taught more than a handful of the graduates. I think 10-15 of them had passed through one of my classes or the other (and really there are only two). It was nice to see them get their opportunity to walk across the stage, receive their degrees, and flip their tassels - though some of them seemed to have trouble with the whole tassel thing, thankfully none of my former students had much trouble.

I tried to make my way around to congratulate as many students I knew as I could... I didn't see (or get to talk to) everyone, as the gym and foyer were quite cramped, but I spoke to many. Everyone looked so happy - the guys looked confident and mature, the ladies beautiful and radiant. Most seemed occupied with family and friends. I didn't want to bother or interrupt, just let them know that I was pleased for them. Don't know if they cared one way or the other, but it meant something to me to tell them I was proud of them. I don't think many student think of professors as "people," but we are. Well, most of us are.

The service was short, as far as grads go: two hours and a bit. My Laurier BA grad was a painful 4 hours... never got to my MA grad. I think when I finally get a chance to walk across the stage to be dubbed "Doctor," my Gameboy will be idling in my pocket.

Should've been one of these things first

Well, I'm well stuck into the marking. Finished one set of exams this afternoon, but, unfortunately, the rest of the term grades are in my office downtown. I guess I'll swing by there Monday and figure out the final grades.

So far, judging by the exams I've marked, I've been impressed. Maybe I actually taught some people some stuff. I suppose in this wacky world anything's possible *shrugs*.

Walked up to the ol' neighbourhood library yesterday; had to return one book and pick up a new one that had been brought over from another branch for me, (The Time Traveler's Wife, which, if you're interested, several people whose opinions I value have recommended). When I got to the library, there were actually 3 books waiting for me: the aforementioned TTW, plus Lost and Son of a Witch. These last two are by Gregory Maguire who writes revisionist versions of classic stories. Wicked, his first and most famous, retells the story of The Wizard of OZ and recast the Wicked Witch of the West as the hero - Son of a Witch is the sequel. I'm sure I'm going to love all these books, but it is a rather daunting amount of "rec" reading to get done in the next month. Good thing the television is wrapping up. No reruns for Michael!

If you start me up I'll never stop

So, I was talking to my good friend Chris yesterday. He was relating some wonderful sotries about his daughter/my goddaughter, Del, who is apparently growing up to be a little drama queen. Example: he was putting her to bed one night and she looked sad.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I don't have any friends," she said, burying her head into her blankets.

Now whether she's your child or not, when an adorable three year old says something like this and your heart doesn't break, you are no friend of mine... and I'm a caustic bastard. Chris was understandably crushed. "Man, I didn't feel like that until highschool," he quipped to me. He said something to try to comfort her, but the whole thing naturally bothered him.... until he found out that Del had seen this very same exchange on her favourite show, "Calliou". Calliou had said this to his grandmother and the grandmother reacted with sympathy and treats. Turns out Del thought she'd try it out and see what kind of reaction she'd get with it. Smart kid.

Let's get together and feel all right

Gave my final exam of the year this afternoon. So once all this marking's done, I get to party, I get to kick back, I get to write my PhD thesis! Whooo!

Invigilating an exam is a odd mix of conflicting sensations: so, so boring; so, so entertaining. I mean, I understand that we're a voyeuristic society, one that enjoys watching what other people are doing, but there really is something indescribably amusing about watching people who have no idea that you can see them. I can only assume that this truth accounts more the staggering popularity of reality television.

Students writing exams (should) have too much on their minds to be self-conscience about the little things like etiquette. I watched one guy stick his finger in his ear, root around for a good 30 seconds, and then look intently at his finger! There's no way he thought people could see him; he was totally absorbed in his own world ... and his ear.

Both today and yesterday I watched the way people sit with great interest. As the time went by and the chairs became less comfortable, student would shift their bodies in an attempt to find a position that they could sit in. I tried to discern how sitting style relates to gender. Females are much more likely than males to pull one or both legs up on the seat of the chair. They are also more likely to twist their legs around their bodies. One of my students had one leg tucked underneath her and the other one crossed. She looked like a pretzel.

Guys tend to push their butts as far back as possible and then lean their torsos on the table. They are also more likely to try to "crack" things - fingers, legs, arms, necks. I can't tell if this is an honest attempt to ease stiffness, or just a noisy way to pass some time. Guys are also more likely (not far more likely, mind you) to scratch themselves in a way that can only be called “inappropriate”.

I also noticed that many people, both male and female, have no idea where their shirts end and where their pants begin. I saw a whole lot of underwear during this exam period. It's not like I was looking for it or anything, but once you notice something like that it's hard NOT to look. Eyes are just drawn there even when you don’t mean to look.

When the cities are on fire with the burning flesh of men

Grrrrrr... another bloody plagarist! Too frustrated to write anything original (though I had a wonderful entry planned about watching people who don't know they're being watched). I'll survey it instead.

Some questions are missing. I don't know where they got to.

1. What time did you get up this morning? 10

2. Diamonds or Pearls? Blah... stupid question

3. What was the last film you saw at the cinema? Chronicles of Narnia, I think

4. What is your favorite TV show? Currently on: House, Spooks. Of all time: Buffy, Night Court.

5. What did you have for breakfast? Yogurt and granola

6. What is your middle name? William

7. What is your favorite cuisine? Ethopian

8. What foods do you dislike? Brussel sprouts. Stupid little cabbages. I hate everything and everyone in Brussells because of these blasted things.

9. Your favorite Potato chip? Cheddar, Roast turkey

10. What is your favorite CD at the moment? Buffy the Vampire Slayer- Once more with Feeling

11. What kind of car do you drive? A red one.

12. Favorite sandwich? Reuben

13. What characteristics do you despise? PLAGARISM!!!

14. What are your favorite clothes? Jeans

15. If you could go anywhere in the world on vacation, where WOULDN'T you go? Alberta

17. Favorite brand of clothing? Meh, don't have one.

18. Where would you want to retire to? England

19. Favorite time of day? Bedtime

21. What is your favorite sport to watch? Don't really have one.

24 Pepsi or Coke? Diet Coke is good, but Diet Pepsi I could drink all day long.

25. Beavers or Ducks? Is saying Beavers all right?

26. Are you a morning person or night owl? Night owl. No question about it. Unfortunately, it's a morning world.

27. Pedicure or Manicure? uh, neither.

29. Any new and exciting news you'd like to share with everyone? I shot a man in Reno just to watch him die.

30. What did you want to be when you were little? Big

32. What is your best childhood memory? Innocence

36. Piercings? Just the arrow in my heart

37. Ever been to Africa? Nope

39. Ever been toilet papering? Yup.

40. Been in a car accident? Yup

43. Favorite day of the week? Thursday. It's my Friday!

44. Favorite restaurant? Masawa's

45. Favorite flower? Shut up.

46. Favorite ice cream? Ben and Jerry's "Vermonty Python"

47. Favorite fast food restaurant? Taco Bell... when I've forgotten what it did to me the last time.

48. How many times did you fail your drivers test? 0

50. From whom did you get your last e-mail? Someone promising to make it bigger.

52. Which store would you choose to max out your credit card? Chapters

54. Bedtime? What a good idea.

56. Last person you went to dinner with? In-laws, Rachel, brother-in-law an his girlfriend.

57. What are you listening to right now? Eddy Grant's "Gimme Hope Jo'anna"

58. What is your favorite color? Black

60. How many tattoos do you have?? 0

65. Favorite magazine? This new one called Jeez

I can live with or without you

Well, the last week of school stuff before the summer. Both my classes write exams this week (tomorrow and Wednesday) and then I have to mark them. Might sound bad, but I'd take marking exams over essays any day. I'm marking essays right now (have to have them done for Wednesday) and it's making me suicidal! Exams you don't have to correct, comment and "justify" your mark like you do with essays. You read twice and give it a grade. Easy-peasy. I can't believe I just wrote "easy-peasy".

This weekend was amazing! The weather in Winnipeg has been unusually awesome. Maybe it's global-warming, I have no idea, but I like it! I've been wearing T-shirts and short sleeved shirts since Friday. My in-laws were in town and we spent a lot of time walking outside. Of course, it very well could snow again. Who’s to say?

The weather was just one part of a great weekend. As I said, the in-laws were in town (which was a good thing) and we got to spent a bit more time getting to know my brother-in-law’s girlfriend and her three year old daughter, Julia. Julia’s a riot. We played games, read to her, and went to the park. She dubbed my father and mother-in-law “Rabbit and little rabbit” (though I’m not quite sure why) and dubbed me “That guy”… which, unfortunately, makes perfect sense. After all, how many people in my life have referred to me as “that guy”? Not counting immediate family? Lots.

“Who’d you have for English?”
"Um, that guy. What’s his name? You know."
"Oh yeah, that guy!"

Awkward conversation number 405. Some people are so bloody hard to figure out. One day they're all chatty and friendly and everything's cool. The next day they're stand off-ish and weird. Then back to chatty again. Some people should come with instructions. Or flow charts.

Gimme hope, Jo'anna

Grunt...

It's a grunt sort of day. I'm tired, my head aches and I have a pile of work to do.
Plus the usual, "People are so very frustratating" thing (not you folks; you folks are great). Sometimes it amazes me how freakin'self-absorbed people can be. And some of you wonder about my misantrophy?

Last class at Prov. You'd think they do more than complain. *shrugs* It's not like I wanted a parade. Okay, a parade would have been cool. What about an old, "Hey, liked the class"? I'd planned on laving them with a final poem about how literature can mean different things to you at different times in your life, as an encouragement to continue reading good books. But, frankly, after the apathy and bored looks when reviewing for the exam, I figured, forget it.

I used to dream there were clouds in my coffee

Okay, the game is called "Two Truths and a Lie." It's pretty simple. You tell two truths and lie about yourself; other people (or me) try to figure out which statements are the truth and which is the lie.

Example: 1) I was born in Toronto. 2) Until I moved to Manitoba, only my grandmother regularly called me Michael." 3) I shot a man in Reno just to watch him die.

If your guessed #1 and #2 were true and #3 was lie, you're RIGHT. I did shoot a man just to watch him die, but it wasn't in Reno.

Wanna play?

It's too cold to be out walking in the streets

It's April and there's a smell in the air... and I'm not talking about the "farm" smell out in Otterburne. I'm talking about the smell of fear. It's exam time and here at the University of Manitoba, and the fear is so thick that you can taste it. it hangs in the air. Students are walking around jacked up on caffine, pencils stuck behind their ears, muttering formulas and dates to themselves. It's a beautiful sight. Sometimes I like to walk by the Multi-purpose rooms 20 minutes before the afternoon exam period. Students are crammed in to the hallways, sitting almost on top of each other to be early to, what?, get a seat? Trying desperately to cram just one more fact into their heads before the exam starts, they have every text book open and all their classnotes spread out in front of them.

You probably think this song is about you

I finally took part in a major Winnipeg institution: today I ate at the Salisbury House. I've lived here for 7 years and I had never even been inside one. Oh, sure, I made the occasional joke (especially when the chain was purchased by a group of investors that included Winnipeg legend/joke, Burton Cummings). For those of you non-Winnipegger's Sal's is... well, like a combination of McDonalds-style fast food, 50s diner and a Perkins. They have burgers (which are called "Nips" for some reason no one seems able to explain) and all-day breakfasts. I had a crispy chicken wrap that was quite good and piece of pie. Yeah, so... Sal's... ate there.

It's spring, and spring in Manitoba means one thing: flooding. The banks of rivers are overflowing; people are sandbagging. I have to watch the news to see if the highway I use to drive to Otterburne will be underwater Wednesday. At the end of our neighbourhood there's a park and a creek that runs off one of the main rivers. I was by there today and the footbridge that crosses the creek is completely underwater. The only evidence a bridge exists is the life-saver bobbing up and down in the water.

Classes are over this week. And while this has been a good semester, I'm glad it's all coming to an end. Caught a student plagiarizing on a major paper the other day. That kind of sucks and means headaches for me (not least of which is being generally pissed off and angry). Blah! I still have a pile of papers still to mark, and now I have no desire to mark them. I just have this sick feeling in the pit of my stomach about this. Why would somebody do this? And do it so badly? I mean, I googled one questionable phrase and up popped the original article. And why do I take this all so personally?

I don't have to fight to prove I'm right

1. Do you still talk to the person you had your first kiss with?
I honestly have no idea who I had my first kiss with, so I'm going to say no.

2. What would you do with 1,000 plastic spoons?
Find a thosand plastic bowls.

3. What did you do when you were in school in the 2nd grade?
In grage two I learned to swear. My friend Beau taught me.

4. What is the best thing about your job?
Well, it's not marking, that's for sure. I guess something about expanding young minds and shaping the next generations thought? Oh and that I can wear jeans to work.

6. Are you against same sex marriage?
No.

7. Did you vote for Bush?
To do what?

8. Where are you going on your next vacation?
I have no idea.

9. Have you kissed any of your blogging friends?
Um, no.

10. Are most of your friends guys or girls?
Girls.

11. Do you own any furniture from Ikea?
Yes, Quite a bit I'm afraid to say.

12. Last book you read?
Superman: Birthright (graphic novel) or James Ellroy's White Jazz

13. If you could have one super power what would it be?
Fly.

14. Where have you lived most of your life?
Oshawa, Ontario... Canada

15. What was the last convo you had about?
Work. At lunch.

16. Where do you see yourself in four years?
Sitting at my desk with a big stack of papers still to be marked.

17. What's your favorite smell?
Fresh Nan bread.

18. What is your favorite sound?
The sounds of silence.

19. Are you moody?
Yes.
No. Yes. I mean, I don' know. I hate you.

20. Favorite movie of all time?
Casablanca

22. Have you ever gone to therapy?
No, but I really enjoy the therapy scenes on the Sopranos.

23. Have you ever played Spin the Bottle?
Yes, and I wasn't very good at it.

24. Have you ever toilet papered some one's house?
Not a house, but I did toilet paper my highschool one Hallowe'en

25. Have you ever liked someone and not told them?
All the freakin' time.

26. Have you ever gone camping?
Only by accident.

27. Have you ever had a crush on your siblings friend?
No. My sister is four years younger and had ugly friends.

28. Have you ever gone to a nude beach?
Only by accident.

29. Have you ever gone streaking?
Only... no I have never gone streaking. I have performed in front of people wearing almost nothing.

30. Have you ever had a stalker?
Nope.

31. Have you ever gone skinny dipping?
I don't think so. You'd think you'd remember something like that. Unless it was really traumatic and you repressed it. So... maybe?

32. Have you ever laughed so hard you cried?
Yes.

33. Have you ever gone to a party where you were the only one
Um, that's not a party then, is it?

34. Have you ever felt betrayed by your best friend?
Sure.

35. Have you ever lied to your parents?
Of course.

37. Have you ever been out of the country?
Yes, I have. Thank you very much.

38. Have you ever thrown up from working out?
No, but I always suspected I might. That's why I don't work out.

39. Have you ever gotten a haircut so bad that you wore a hat for a month straight?
No. Not a straight month. A couple of days maybe. If I had a haircut that bad, I'd just have my head again.

40. Have you ever eaten 3 meals from 3 different fast food places in 1 day?
Three meals? Doubtful. I'm not a big breakfast person. But two meals, I'm sure I have.

41. Last song you listened to?
A live version of "Tango to their Sore" by Tom Waits. It's my very favourite Waits song.

42. Have you ever spied on someone?
The Russians. You mean professionally? No.

43. Have you ever slept in the same bed with the opposite sex?
Yes.

44. Have you ever seen your best friend naked?
Yes.

45. Who was the last person who called you?
My mom (somebody shoot me)

46. When was the last time you slept for more then 12 hours?
Friday night to Saturday afternoon. Heavenly.

47. Have you ever been arrested?
Nope. They keep trying, but they just can't catch me. Suckers.

48. Most embarrassing CD you own?
Well, if we're counting cds my wife purchased and I therefore own too, probably something stupid like the Top Gun soundtrack. Of cds I purchased and therefore have no excuse... um...can't think of any. I think I sold all the embarassing ones.

49. Have you ever had surgery?
Only by accident.

I can't help it if I'm lucky

Did you know that golf season is starting up soon?

Neither did I.... until I found a helpful little email from Golfer's World in my Junk Mail folder this morning. And it must be a big deal, right? I mean, they took the time to email me – me, who has never golfed a round in his life!

Now ordinarily the only messages that I find in my Junk folder promise to make me "bigger." Lately there have been a disproportionate number from "females" with names like Candy or Sindy, calling me "Sexy" and looking to "hook up." My astute eye has judged these as fraudulent - no one who's actually seen me would describe me as "sexy".

My goodness, I've used up two whole weeks worth of quotation marks in that paragraph. My apologies, "gentle" "reader."

But today, instead of one of these typical messages waiting to be Trashed like a Frat-boy on Spring Break, I found this one telling me all about the advent of the new golfing season. Now I don't like golf, not even a little bit, but it was refreshing to have something different breaking the monotony of the Junk folder, like a breath of fresh air. Okay, maybe not "fresh" air, but definitely less stagnant.

"But the fool on the hill sees the sun going down

So it's April Fool's Day. I've never been a big fan of April Fool's Day, never much saw the point in jokes and japes and larks being tied to a specific day. But if it's one the same day year after year, don't people start to catch on?

I saw a show on television this afternoon that got me thinking about fooling people and being fooled. The featured an interview with Ray Manzarek, keyboardist for "The Doors." He was talking about (surprise, surprise) Jim Morrison's final days. The interview brought up some of the shadowy circumstances that have lead some fans to believe Morrison actually faked his own death: there was no autopsy, no death certificate, an Algerian doctor who diagnosed failed heart as the cause of death, a closed casket, and a quick burial. Though Manzarek says he believes Morrison's excessive lifestyle finally caught up with him and that Jim did indeed die and is buried in Paris, he also said that if there was anyone in rock and roll who could pull off a stunt like that it was the Lizard King. But some people still believe. Just like some people believe Elvis Presley's still alive somewhere. Or that Andy Kaufman faked his own death as a huge Kaufmanesque joke on the world and that one day he'll return. Or that Tupac faked his own death and is still alive somewhere (I gotta admit this one seems possible as Tupac has released more material since he died than he ever did in life).

Why is it so easy for people to believe that someone would take the time and care to stage their own death and hide out because they're too famous, or they're tired of the fame? Why do people show up at the Comedy Store on the eve of Andy Kaufman's death hoping he'll show up? Has anyone actually pulled this off? And why has no one actually tried it? I think that it's about time that someone actually tried the "fake your own death thing only to return." Could you imagine how big something like that would actually be? Someone we all thought was dead right there on telelvision presenting best Onscreen Kiss at the MTV Movies Awards. We'd all go bananas! I nominate a New Kid on the Block. Any New Kid on the Block. Joey, Jordan, Timmy, Alan… I don’t care. Draw straws. They could certainly use the publicity.

Life's a laugh and death's a joke, it's true

So, I screened Monty Python's Life of Brian in class today. Wasn't excommunicated or burned at the stake, so I'll take that as a good sign. Of course, my student evaluation was given about 30 minutes after the films ended so if they wanted to blast me as a heretic or blasphemer I suppose they had that outlet too. But the discussion about the film was quite productive. People who have hardly said word one spoke up. Maybe next year I'll just teach Monty Python films.

Also, I have discovered a rather serious flaw in the whole Slow Club thing. I don't know if this is going to be a "might-as-well-pack-SC-in" flaw, but it'll take some figuring out. What do I do with people who are going slower than I want to go? I was in the bookstore at Prov this afternoon and there was a herd of elderly people shuffling along at a snail's pace. Whenever I'd get to the end of an aisle, where I could change my course and take a different path, there was another old person, cane in hand, shuffling in front of me. They were everywhere. Now I'm trying quite hard to incorporate this whole "slow down and enjoy the journey", but behind these octogenarians it was more "stand stationary". Maybe I'm not cut out for the whole Slow Club.

I was doing quite well with it too. I took my time driving to work today. Instead of doing 120 km down the 75, I drove the speed limit. Instead of cutting down sketchy dirt roads, I drove all the way out to the 59 and took paved roads to Otterburne. Sure it took an extra 10 minutes, but who cares? I wanted to enjoy the peace and quiet of the car ride. And then I run into the old people! Perhaps I should just avoid nursing homes, flea markets and McDonalds in the day time.

Your Deadly Sins

Sloth: 40%

Envy: 20%

Greed: 20%

Lust: 20%

Gluttony: 0%

Pride: 0%

Wrath: 0%

Chance You'll Go to Hell: 14%

You will die while sleeping - and no one will notice.

How Sinful Are You?

No one will notice? Ouch. That's my biggest fear. Seriously. I mean, people forget about me and I'm still alive.

I had to phone someone so I picked on you

I've been trying to hammer out the prelimanary details of this brand new course I'll be teaching at Booth College next year. I was told it could be whatever I wanted, so my imagination's racing (kind of working against the whole Slow Club thing, I know). I love the freedom that affords me. I need to come up with a pithy title by the end of the week in order to be included in the course listings for early enrollment. I find the whole process exciting.

Showed an episode of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" today in class. Partly it was meant as break, partly to illustrate postmodernism. A few people skipped, so maybe there'll be a pointed Buffy question on the final. Overall people seemed to like it, I think. Tough to say. In the post-screening discussion there wasn't much... well, discussion. Hmmmm.

And the girls down by the strip tease show go

This weekend I went to a monastery for four days of quiet and peace. And I learned something very important. Actually I learned all kinds of wonderful things, but I think the best, or at least the easiest to communiate to other peoples, was that I learned to join the "Slow Club."

You see, there's a boy named Joseph who created something he called the Slow Club when he was just 5 years old. Even at five this little boy realized that the world moved far too fast. People were always in a hurry; rushing here, rushing there. Deadlines, appointments. Joseph didn't think this was a good way to life one's life.

To join the Slow Club is apparently pretty simple: you need to slow down. Sounds easy, doesn't it?

Take your time.

Look at your surroundings.

Appreciate the things around you: the melting snow, the bugs, the trees.

Now I'm learning how to view walks not so much as functional things (getting from point A to point B) but adventures.

Wanna join?

Michael Boyce
co-president, Winnipeg Chapter

The Slow Club.
We'll Get There... eventually.

We know Major Tom's a junkie

*wipes the sleep from his eyes*

Yesterday was a LONG day. I went out to Otterburne about 8:30 in the morning and didn't leave until 10 o'clock at night. And while I couldn't find anything to eat for supper other than a bag of Doritos and a bottle of Coke, I'm actually glad I stayed out. Last night was the opening night of the major production, An Inspector Calls. A former student of mine invited me (she's assistant director) and I had a really good time. There are some incredibly talented actors out there... in the middle of nowhere.

It's the middle of nowhere part that caused me all my problems last night. I wanted food. Something edible to put in my stomach. I couldn't recall any places to eat for the different ways I know to get into Otterburne. I didn't want to go driving around the country looking for someplace to eat (visions of a wintry Texas Chainsaw Massacre danced in my head). I settled on the little cubbyhole-sized variety store thing in the main concourse of campus. I was starving when I got home. In fact I'm still hungry just thinking about it.

I feel so funny deep inside

Coffee jitters. Can't concentrate. Lunch soon. But not soon enough.

Was in the mall today. Talking with the soon to be Academic Dean of Booth College. Saw someone I hadn't seen in a few years. Almost didn't recognize her. She almost didn't recognize me. Didn't get to talk.

Reading Ellroy has made my sentences choppy. Too highly influenced. Blame him.

Name your top 10 most played bands:
1. Velvet Underground
2. Beatles
3. Miles Davis
4. David Bowie
5. Wolf Parade
6. Spoon
7. Elvis Costello
8. Tom Waits
9. Nick Drake
10. John Cale


Now answer the questions according to the numbers:
What was the first song you ever heard by 6? "Something to Look Forward to"
What is your favourite album of 2? "Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band"
What is your favourite lyric that 4 has sung? "Insanity laughs, Under pressure we're Cracking"
How many times have you seen 5 live? 0
What is your favorite song by 7? "Veronica"
What is a good memory you have involving the music of 10? Standing in the old GenX picking movies with friends
Is there a song of 3 that makes you sad? Kind of Blue
What is your favorite lyric that 2 has sung? "I am the eggmen, you are the eggman; I am the walrus"
What is your favorite song by 9? "Fly"
How did you get in to 3? Chris Beckett
What was the first song you heard by 1? That I remember, probably "Pale Blue Eyes"
What is your favorite song by 4? "Live on Mars"
How many time have you seen 9 live? 0 and I never will
What is a good memory you have involving 2? The air band of Twist and Shout in Grade 8
Is there a song of 8 that makes you sad? All of them. But a good sad.
What is your favorite album of 5? They only have one. "With Apologies to the Queen Anne"
What is your favorite lyric that 3 has sung? Miles doesn't sing; he plays
What is your favorite song of 1? "Pale Blue Eyes"
What is your favorite song of 10? "Paris 1919" from Fragments of a Rainy Season
How many times have you seen 8 live? 0
What is your favorite album of 1? the first three are all perfect
What is a great memory you have considering 9? I don't.
What was the first song you heard by 8? "Tom Traubert's Blues (Four Sheets to the Wind in Copenhaugen)"
What is your favorite cover by 2? "Twist and Shout"

Don't the hours grow shorter as the days go by?

On Friday night CBC showed LA Confidential. Man, I love that film. Too bad they ran it at 11:30 at night. I couldn't stay up that night (being an old man, I needs my sleeps!). I taped the whole thing, but wound up watching an hour or so anyway. Something about murder, drugs and whores cut to look like movie stars that makes me smile! That's likely a character fault.

Saturday I shaved my head again. This is something I do when I'm stressed or annoyed or unhappy. It's my version of cutting. I didn't Bic to the bone it this time, so I suppose I wasn't that stressed, annoyed, unhappy. It's just very short. Short enough that I've cut a good 10 minutes out of my "start of the day" routine.

Today's Sunday: honestly can't remember what I've done.

Senility at 30. Sad.

This is our last dance, this is ourselves under pressure

An open letter to the loud, loud man who rides the 36.

Dear Fathead,

Many years ago the good people at Winnipeg Transit did a great service for the people of Winnipeg: they created a useful bus route. The 36.

The 36 is magical. In twenty to twenty-five minutes, you can get from Maryland and Westminster to the University of Manitoba. Quite simply, and at the risk of sounding hyperbolic, it this best thing ever created. Ever.

But with all good things, there must be the bad. And you, sir, are the bad. You have turned the most enjoyable of bus rides into twenty minutes of knuckle chewing, headache inducing tedium. You see, you start talking as you get on bus and you don't stop, ever, until you reach your stop. You never seem to be talking anyone in particular, but you use a voice loud enough that all can hear. I know you have children - I've heard all about their first steps, current friends and that ever-so-interesting fascination with dinosaurs; have you lectured them about using "indoor voices"? I suggest you look over your notes for that speech.

Maybe you think that people enjoy your loud pontificating about every subject under the sun. Maybe you think we want to know about your theories of municipal infrastructure or the need for a drastic restructuring of the University Senate. You would be wrong. Very, very wrong.

As much as I want to be, I can't be too angry with you. Part of me believes you are married to a shrewish wife who shushes you as soon as you walk in the door after your long day at the University. Maybe you're made to be quiet all evening, and the bus is your last chance to say something, anything for the rest of the day. That's my theory. But it doesn't make me anymore interested in listening to you detail the in-workings of a medieval Norwegian fish village.

I want help you. I see people snicker and roll their eyes at you while you're going on about how you'd reorganize the Canada Council for Research Grants. I see people make that "Oh, God, please kill me" face when you're detailing your son's most recent swimming lesson and how he must obviously be gifted because he didn't drown. And I feel bad for you. So here are a few tips to help you out.

1) Indoor voice. I know the bus isn't technically "indoors," but it is an enclosed space.

2) Avoid words like "dichotomy" or "infused". People will want to punch you if you use them. And you want to avoid being punched. Frankly, looking you, I don't think you'd be any good in a fight.

3) Conversations tend to involve more than one person. Try to find a partner.

4) Bring a book on the bus. It'll give you something to do instead of talk. Resist the temptation to read passages aloud.


Sincerely,
On behalf of a number of people on the bus

Mike

Mister, catch me if you can

Another mildly productive weekend. Did some reading, some writing, no marking. Guess I'll have to work extra hard on that in the next couple of days.

Watched The Breakfast Club the other day. It was on Diva. It's probably the only time I've ever watched Diva. Still, despite being shown on such stupidly named station, I watched with glee. Actually, "glee" is too strong a word. Delight. That's better. And nostaglia. Nostaglia for a time when your whole world stood or fell on the opinions of a very small number of people.

I didn't really dig highschool myself. University was a far better experience. Highschool wasn't horrible or anything. I mean, I had friends. I was moderately well-liked. And while I don't think I would have been as easily definable as "jock" or "brain" (I totally wasn't a jock, I can tell you), but I vividly recall the sense of isolation and frustration of being labelled. In highschool I watched a number of friends, for whatever reason, drift into separate groups. Groups that didn't typically hang out.

You broke the boy in me, but you won't break the man

So, my misanthropic tendencies flared up the other day: I was waiting for a bus to take me downtown. Right before the bus pulled up, a class of about 20 Korean ESL students showed up out of nowhere. And they all had large cardboard stand-ups, like old science-fair projects displays. Their teacher, a frazzled-looking, hippie woman with large hoop earring and a babushka, tried to herd them towards the bus, "I hope we can all fit on." And fit on we did - if by "fit" you mean I got crammed between a pole and rather large (and rather smelly) man. What fun! (this is where I’d add the smiley face with the rolly eyes, if I knew how to do that here)

The bus was, sadly, not an express. There are about 10 stops between where I caught e bus and where I usually get off. I figured I'd be stuck next to smelly for a few stops, but that people would get off.

No one got off.

Lots of people got on.

I couldn't take it anymore. I got off a few stops early and, muttering under my breath, walked the rest of the way.

Hung with pictures of our parents' Prime Ministers

Another year, another Oscar ceremony.

Having seen only 10% of all the films nominated, I don't really know if I have any business commenting on who did (or didn't) win; but than again, I DID pick more winners than my wife (who saw 90% of the films). I won. I get to do the dance of superiority. I must limber up. And I while I fully intend to do said dance, what did I really do? Guess the politics of the academy? As George Clooney said in his excellent acceptance speech, it's not they all played the same part. Luckily for me choosing the winners is less about discerning talent and more about knowing the game.

I have no idea if Reese Witherspoon was better than Dame Judi Dench (who should learn how to act happy), but I do know that Dench has won before and is nominated all the time. Witherspoon is young, learned to do things for the role (singing and playing the autoharp), and portrayed a beloved American figure. I picked Reese and it paid off.

I didn't pick Philip Seymour Hoffman, but I should have. This was a category where I had seen one of the movies and went with my reaction to that performance instead of figuring out the game. Joaquin (or however the hell you spell his name) Phoenix was incredible as Johnny Cash. He, like Reese, learned things for his role (singing and guitar), and he played a beloved real-life American figure. That should have counted for a lot, but that beloved real-life American figure wasn't a) disabled or b) gay. The Academy loves marginalized figures: handicapped, homosexuals, mentally unbalanced. Yes, Johnny Cash was a drug addict and that was portrayed in the film, but beloved and drug addicted was trumped by the also real life Capote's sexual preference and overall bizarreness (like that voice!). Not that Hoffman wasn't incredible in the role, but he had more things going for him. I figure that one year an actor will be nominated for playing a gay, handicapped alcoholic. If that happens, the other nominees might as well save themselves the cost of the tux rental.

Okay: true, Felicity Huffman played a transgendered male, but that's still a little too extreme for Hollywood. Or at least that's my way of justifying not choosing her and her not winning.

As for the actual show itself, I liked it. Hang on. Perhaps I should rephrase that. I mean: I liked what little I saw of the Oscar show. I figured, why watch the whole show when I hadn't watched all the movies that the show was about? But what I did see was good. Jon Stewart is one of my favourite TV personalities of all-time. I love the guy to death, but he seemed a little out of his element. Maybe it was the strict run time, maybe it was that he was told not to do anything too political; he seemed uncomfortable. He was funny, don't get me wrong, but he wasn't as funny as he is night after night on the Daily Show. That said, I did LOVE the "defense" of the importance of heterosexuality in cowboy films. That might be the funniest thing I've ever seen on an Oscar show.

Some random thoughts:

Are they making dresses in negative sizes now? Could some of those actresses possibly be in more need of a sandwich? Jessica Alba's a beautiful woman, but dammit, girl, eat something.

In one crowd shot, I thought, "Man, Harvey Ketiel looks scarier than usual." I then realized that it was Heath Ledger. Is he playing Keitel in an upcoming movie? There's no excuse for looking like that.

Is George Clooney the coolest guy in Hollywood? And Jon Stewart's right: how much more can he get?

Who was that weird-assed guy who wrote Brokeback Mountain? I get the feeling he doesn't get out much.

Should Will Ferrell even be allowed in to the Oscars?

Jack Nicholson sat next to Keira Knightley. Can you blame him? I would have fought Jack Nicholson to sit next to Keira Knightley.

It's memories that I'm stealing, but you're innocent when you dream

For the second week in a row the best thing on television was the Best of Monty Python on PBS. This week's episodes (3 and 4 in and series of 6) featured the Best of John Cleese and the Best of Terry Gilliam.

The premise of Cleese's episode, that he's now a senile, cantankerous old man, started off as funny, but became a little tired by the end. Still, I really liked that the show began with a fake memorial to Cleese - showing, once again, that there's not much funnier than death. Again, the focus of the show's is not (necessarily) the most popular sketches, but the personal favourites of the individual members. Cleese has always been my favourite Python. He plays straight-laced authority figures so well - trying so hard to be proper, but seething with rage just beneath the surface.

Gilliam's all animated episode worked surprisingly well. Originally, the stuff that linked the sketches together, there's more than enough substance in these pieces to warrant a full hour. While he's had the most obvious success post-Python, Gilliam always seemed the odd Python out: American, an animator, absent from most sketches. The framing narrative of Gilliam's episode is Terry exposing the secret origins of "Monty Python's Flying Circus." The show was originally supposed to be all animation and that he'd hired these unemployed "University boys" to do voices and a bit of live action filler, who later kissed butt to the bigwigs at BBC to get bigger parts. Gilliam's animation was (and is) unlike anything before. In an age when major animation studios are turning their attention the possibilities of computer-animation, there's a lost magic about the found art and unique vision of Terry Gilliam.

The chair next to you's free

Well, March came in like the proverbial lion. We got dumped with snow Wednesday, just in time for me to drive home from Otterburne through it. Whoopity do. Blizzards make me love driving even more than I do all the other time.

A student puts up her hand today and asks me if I've heard of some poet. I say, "I don't think so; why?" She informs me that I'd like him, 'cause "he's bitter about getting old." Now where did I put that grade book?

I just finished Phillipa Gregory's The Other Boleyn Girl. As far as historical fiction goes, very interesting: I highly recommend it.

Basically, it tells the story Anne Boleyn's younger (in the novel anyway - historians aren't sure who was older) sister, Mary and the events surrounding Henry's attempt to get his first marriage annulled by the Church. Before Anne married Henry VIII, Mary likely had an affair with the King, and possibly gave birth to two children by Henry. While the history is much murkier than Gregory suggests, the description of the politics of court are fascinating and deadly accurate. The deceit and conniving of Howard family (to who the Boleyns were connected on their mother's side) would make contemporary politicians green with envy. They decide to throw both daughters at the King in order to win the crown's favour. Henry, whose reputation for womanizing is well documented, takes the bait; he first beds Mary, then becomes infatuated with Anne. Gregory suggests that this infatuation leads to Henry's descent into tyranny. He challenges the Church, English tradition, even the support of his own people to get what he wants. People who stand in his way find themselves in the Tower of London or on the block. Of course, when Anne falls out of favour, the attitude and temperament she encouraged in Henry become directed at her and her family: trumped up charges, hearsay evidence, unlawful imprisonment and finally execution.

What was one part disturbing, two parts intriguing was the way things were done, particularly in regards to the manipulation of women for political gain. In order for Mary to be the mistress of the King, she had to be married so as to avoid scandal (?!) yet live apart from her husband; in case there was a child, paternity could not be questioned. As long as she was married Mary reputation was, for the most part, secure. Unmarried Anne must deny the King sex for fear of being labeled a common whore. And all the adultery and infidelity is not only encouraged but arranged by the Howard family.

Of course this being a contemporary novel, with contemporary sensibilities, both Mary and Anne have a few speeches about the unfortunate place of women and the role Anne's only child, a daughter, might play in the shaping of England. The daughter, Queen Elizabeth, would of course go on to rule England as one of its greatest monarchs