Some of you are hep to the jive of the Flight. If not, wake up and enjoy the greatness. And while you're at it, go to iTunes and grab the two free episodes of their new HBO show.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Night night, Bulldog.
Remember this old guy?
Well, he is dead. I was just told by a mechanic that it would cost more to fix this guy's carboratour than it's worth (somewhere in the $1200 area). Since, like any pet (challenge me on this!! COME ON!), this motorcycle has no spirit and isn't a blood relative, I have to consider its value to me and let it go. Goodbye, bulldog. (Fascinating factoid: this motorcycle was named Bulldog after the Iola Bulldogs, which are also maroon. Iola is my parents' teeny tiny hometown in central Texas. My cousin's wife still coaches there. Scoop! Iola also produced one of the NBA's growing number of white thugs, Chris Anderson, who plays for the Denver Nuggets.)
Like losing a beloved pet (but not enough to shell out thousands of dollars to keep it alive), I have had some emotions to deal with, as well as an empty place in my shed out back.
But the pain was short lived. I filled that cavity with a Newer, Better Bike! Adios Bulldog! I just upgraded by 18 years, from a 1984 to '02! Yowza!
I'm thinking of naming this bike Grimace after the purple McDonald's character (and also because I enjoy a good poo).
Well, he is dead. I was just told by a mechanic that it would cost more to fix this guy's carboratour than it's worth (somewhere in the $1200 area). Since, like any pet (challenge me on this!! COME ON!), this motorcycle has no spirit and isn't a blood relative, I have to consider its value to me and let it go. Goodbye, bulldog. (Fascinating factoid: this motorcycle was named Bulldog after the Iola Bulldogs, which are also maroon. Iola is my parents' teeny tiny hometown in central Texas. My cousin's wife still coaches there. Scoop! Iola also produced one of the NBA's growing number of white thugs, Chris Anderson, who plays for the Denver Nuggets.)
Like losing a beloved pet (but not enough to shell out thousands of dollars to keep it alive), I have had some emotions to deal with, as well as an empty place in my shed out back.
But the pain was short lived. I filled that cavity with a Newer, Better Bike! Adios Bulldog! I just upgraded by 18 years, from a 1984 to '02! Yowza!
I'm thinking of naming this bike Grimace after the purple McDonald's character (and also because I enjoy a good poo).
South Africa A
Some of your (okay, it's Allcars) have been asking for info re: this most recent jaunt to Southo land. I won't go into it much (though you can click the title if you really want heavy deets from the Trip Blog and SCADS of photos), but I will say that Didi and I stayed with a wonderful family, with Steve and Sibongila (Leah, for short) as our surrogate ma and pa.
Leah is particularly intimate with the Holy Spirit. She hears His voice to electrifying degrees (she prophesied to us and was quite accurate in her words and encouragements), and couples her hearing with obedience. To wit:
God told Leah that she was to preach on buses (why doesn't that word have a double s?), to which she protested that she didn't speak in front of people and certainly didn't preach. He spoke again, this time more sternly, and now she boards buses on Thursday and Friday. God gives her passages from the scriptures from which to preach, and reveals the hearts of the people on board. She has become a pastor to people who were formerly strangers. Some of them insult her, and some of them have been born again from hearing about Jesus. Leah says that she's unconcerned with their response. In love, she shares the gospel of Christ with them, and their response is their business. They will be blessed or cursed, with respect to their response and the justice and mercy of God. Her responsibility is to do as the Father dictates. I like Leah a lot.
I also like the kids. I did them the huge favor of introducing them to the world of Nintendo Gamecube and Mario Soccer. It's what we play around the office here and I thought it would translate well. Let's just say... it did.
So: humble, godly family contaminated by western entertainment? Short-sighted American seeking to ingratiate himself by unscrupulous means? Stranger in the house of love?....
NAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!
Leah is particularly intimate with the Holy Spirit. She hears His voice to electrifying degrees (she prophesied to us and was quite accurate in her words and encouragements), and couples her hearing with obedience. To wit:
God told Leah that she was to preach on buses (why doesn't that word have a double s?), to which she protested that she didn't speak in front of people and certainly didn't preach. He spoke again, this time more sternly, and now she boards buses on Thursday and Friday. God gives her passages from the scriptures from which to preach, and reveals the hearts of the people on board. She has become a pastor to people who were formerly strangers. Some of them insult her, and some of them have been born again from hearing about Jesus. Leah says that she's unconcerned with their response. In love, she shares the gospel of Christ with them, and their response is their business. They will be blessed or cursed, with respect to their response and the justice and mercy of God. Her responsibility is to do as the Father dictates. I like Leah a lot.
I also like the kids. I did them the huge favor of introducing them to the world of Nintendo Gamecube and Mario Soccer. It's what we play around the office here and I thought it would translate well. Let's just say... it did.
So: humble, godly family contaminated by western entertainment? Short-sighted American seeking to ingratiate himself by unscrupulous means? Stranger in the house of love?....
NAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!
Garlic-tica!
That's what we always called Battlestar Galactica growing up. Hilarious. It looked like this:
I remember not liking that kid, but (as always) trusting Lorne Green.
Anyhow, there's been a new one out a while, and my pal Neil lent me Season 1 a while back. After giving him some of my opinions (he takes this BSG thing very seriously and wanted my takes), he asked me to write up something for his podcast. Below, my review, as written for him (you can click on the title for his podcast):
First of all, I want you people to know who I am. Unlike Mr. Neil, I am not a Galctica-loving, graphics-making Depeche-loving artist. But I am finicky, from an entertainment standpoint, in my own way: I’m a huge Arrested Development fan, love Wes Anderson, and love unknown musical acts like David Mead and the Gabe Dixon Band. What I’m saying is, my little neck of the media woods doesn’t include the Sci-Fi Channel. So know that. I am, though, a fan of all kinds of storytelling, so I did happen to take a Science Fiction class in college. The genre isn’t lost on me: I’ve always admired how one can very naturally explore existential questions in that field. As our (usually human) heroes deal with other life forms, we get to see, from a third-party standpoint, our authors discourse about racial problems, cultural differences, mortality, and every other sociological problem that would feel too on-the-nose if it weren’t about some alien species. I’ve always dug that sort of thing.
So I was not left cold when Neil excitedly lent me his copy of Battlestar Galactica’s season one. I’d heard positive things from all fronts about this series: EWeekly had raved about it many times, and other friends of mine have sung its virtues to me in casual conversation. Neil had even played the soundtrack for me, of which I was duly impressed. As I’m wont to do, I consumed all 5 discs with relish: I enjoy working through series’ stories in a concentrated way. If I don’t, I run the risk of forgetting the salient points as I move through the season. I also enjoy forming a cohesive opinion about the story arcs, the acting, and the way the show was put together. In this way, I am a nerd. Sure, that’s true. Sue me.
Let’s get on with my findings:
For starters, I really enjoy when a series complicates itself in a big-picture way. BSG did that in spades by not only setting its cast adrift in a cosmic no-man’s-land, but then pushing the envelope by calling all of its members’ allegiance into question (Is he human? Is she cylon?). Of course, this has been done recently (rather famously) by the Lost gang and their run-ins with the Others, and the ensuing questions about whether there were strangers among us. I actually think Lost qualifies as science fiction, but that’s another article.
I dig like crazy the fact that we’re made to believe the primary conflict is human-vs.-cylon (which, in a foundational way, it always will be), but it seems apparent by the end of the season that the focus will be on Commander Adama vs. President Roslin. That was a welcome and unexpected twist, as I’d grown to trust the ethics of both.
Before I praise the writers too highly, allow me to say that I find the B-story about cylon Boomer to be tiring: if she wanted to, she could take down BSG which much less fanfare or intrigue. Her cavorting around Caprica with Helo also feels like some sort of punishment for watching the program. I do wonder, though, what the Cylon collective will do when she’s actually tracked down (because it does appear that she’s actually turned against them for the time being). The other B-story that’s interesting to consider is Gaius’ ongoing wrestling with questions of fate-vs.-freedom and God-vs-nothing in his dialogues with Number Six. It’s an intriguing use of a classic sci-fi setup, but it leads me to this point about BSG:
I can’t stand the acting. Gaius and Number Six both ham up their parts with such relish, all these hot dogs need is a bun and we’re set for a picnic. James Callis’ cartoony portrayal of the effete Gaius is grating and, for my money, insulting to the viewers. Both he and Tricia Helfer (as Six) play such clichéd characters that I can predict half of the lines they project with cannon-like oversize. They are joined by Starbuck, the highly-talented-but-hard-to-handle-because-she’s-internally-tortured hotshot played by the outrageously perky Katee Sackhoff. Whether she’s affecting a sneer or a tear, I don’t buy a cent of it. Her partner, Jamie Bamber (as Lee Adama) also curls his cloying lip with the best of them. I wish BSG would’ve saved a buck or two on special effects and bought a more earthy cast. Of course, Edward James Olmos and Mary McDonnell, as always, are above reproach and bring pathos and gravity to their roles. I could watch those two all day, and always rather resent when the story moves away from their orbits. Unfortunately, they make up a tiny percentage of the acting troupe.
In between the writing and the acting lies the production. BSG clearly has a major movie-sized budget, as the set design and all technical aspects of the production come across as first rate. That is relaxing and assuring to me as a viewer: I’m always nervous with space-based endeavors that somehow, a Dr. No production value is going to slip through there, and the writers will have to suffer through the ignominy of their sirloin ideas presented in spam quality. BSG, though, is shot beautifully, rendered with flair, and absolutely sells itself as the genuine article. That is indeed a joy.
So, though I made it through Season One, it felt at times more like an assignment than recreation. The places the creators are taking the story are interesting and layered, and I’m appreciative. The acting, though, on the whole, feels hackneyed (which was a surprise, to be honest). Yes, the production is terrific, but with Starbuck’s ham-fisted groans, Lee’s tough-guy posturing, and Gaius’ precious pandering, BSG is adrift in more ways than one.
I for one hope they find their way to Earth sooner than later.
I remember not liking that kid, but (as always) trusting Lorne Green.
Anyhow, there's been a new one out a while, and my pal Neil lent me Season 1 a while back. After giving him some of my opinions (he takes this BSG thing very seriously and wanted my takes), he asked me to write up something for his podcast. Below, my review, as written for him (you can click on the title for his podcast):
First of all, I want you people to know who I am. Unlike Mr. Neil, I am not a Galctica-loving, graphics-making Depeche-loving artist. But I am finicky, from an entertainment standpoint, in my own way: I’m a huge Arrested Development fan, love Wes Anderson, and love unknown musical acts like David Mead and the Gabe Dixon Band. What I’m saying is, my little neck of the media woods doesn’t include the Sci-Fi Channel. So know that. I am, though, a fan of all kinds of storytelling, so I did happen to take a Science Fiction class in college. The genre isn’t lost on me: I’ve always admired how one can very naturally explore existential questions in that field. As our (usually human) heroes deal with other life forms, we get to see, from a third-party standpoint, our authors discourse about racial problems, cultural differences, mortality, and every other sociological problem that would feel too on-the-nose if it weren’t about some alien species. I’ve always dug that sort of thing.
So I was not left cold when Neil excitedly lent me his copy of Battlestar Galactica’s season one. I’d heard positive things from all fronts about this series: EWeekly had raved about it many times, and other friends of mine have sung its virtues to me in casual conversation. Neil had even played the soundtrack for me, of which I was duly impressed. As I’m wont to do, I consumed all 5 discs with relish: I enjoy working through series’ stories in a concentrated way. If I don’t, I run the risk of forgetting the salient points as I move through the season. I also enjoy forming a cohesive opinion about the story arcs, the acting, and the way the show was put together. In this way, I am a nerd. Sure, that’s true. Sue me.
Let’s get on with my findings:
For starters, I really enjoy when a series complicates itself in a big-picture way. BSG did that in spades by not only setting its cast adrift in a cosmic no-man’s-land, but then pushing the envelope by calling all of its members’ allegiance into question (Is he human? Is she cylon?). Of course, this has been done recently (rather famously) by the Lost gang and their run-ins with the Others, and the ensuing questions about whether there were strangers among us. I actually think Lost qualifies as science fiction, but that’s another article.
I dig like crazy the fact that we’re made to believe the primary conflict is human-vs.-cylon (which, in a foundational way, it always will be), but it seems apparent by the end of the season that the focus will be on Commander Adama vs. President Roslin. That was a welcome and unexpected twist, as I’d grown to trust the ethics of both.
Before I praise the writers too highly, allow me to say that I find the B-story about cylon Boomer to be tiring: if she wanted to, she could take down BSG which much less fanfare or intrigue. Her cavorting around Caprica with Helo also feels like some sort of punishment for watching the program. I do wonder, though, what the Cylon collective will do when she’s actually tracked down (because it does appear that she’s actually turned against them for the time being). The other B-story that’s interesting to consider is Gaius’ ongoing wrestling with questions of fate-vs.-freedom and God-vs-nothing in his dialogues with Number Six. It’s an intriguing use of a classic sci-fi setup, but it leads me to this point about BSG:
I can’t stand the acting. Gaius and Number Six both ham up their parts with such relish, all these hot dogs need is a bun and we’re set for a picnic. James Callis’ cartoony portrayal of the effete Gaius is grating and, for my money, insulting to the viewers. Both he and Tricia Helfer (as Six) play such clichéd characters that I can predict half of the lines they project with cannon-like oversize. They are joined by Starbuck, the highly-talented-but-hard-to-handle-because-she’s-internally-tortured hotshot played by the outrageously perky Katee Sackhoff. Whether she’s affecting a sneer or a tear, I don’t buy a cent of it. Her partner, Jamie Bamber (as Lee Adama) also curls his cloying lip with the best of them. I wish BSG would’ve saved a buck or two on special effects and bought a more earthy cast. Of course, Edward James Olmos and Mary McDonnell, as always, are above reproach and bring pathos and gravity to their roles. I could watch those two all day, and always rather resent when the story moves away from their orbits. Unfortunately, they make up a tiny percentage of the acting troupe.
In between the writing and the acting lies the production. BSG clearly has a major movie-sized budget, as the set design and all technical aspects of the production come across as first rate. That is relaxing and assuring to me as a viewer: I’m always nervous with space-based endeavors that somehow, a Dr. No production value is going to slip through there, and the writers will have to suffer through the ignominy of their sirloin ideas presented in spam quality. BSG, though, is shot beautifully, rendered with flair, and absolutely sells itself as the genuine article. That is indeed a joy.
So, though I made it through Season One, it felt at times more like an assignment than recreation. The places the creators are taking the story are interesting and layered, and I’m appreciative. The acting, though, on the whole, feels hackneyed (which was a surprise, to be honest). Yes, the production is terrific, but with Starbuck’s ham-fisted groans, Lee’s tough-guy posturing, and Gaius’ precious pandering, BSG is adrift in more ways than one.
I for one hope they find their way to Earth sooner than later.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)