Have a Super Samhain!

...Somehow, I doubt that'll ever catch on as a holiday catch-phrase. Oh well.

So, tonight, we have friends coming over to feed trick-or-treaters (we actually got a ton last year) and hang out. I have a DVR brimming with horror movies both new and old, as well as a new copy of Slither on DVD. I suspect, however, that the TV will be busy with Guitar Hero III -- Which, of course, rocks.

It's a bummer that I'll miss the 'weenie Halo "Playlist of the Living Dead," but that's OK.

Anyway, all is well. We're trying to solve the conundrum of winter clothing for Andrea (especially since we actually saw some frost this morning!), but everything else is going well. We have a Child Care class on Saturday, which should be fun.

That's about it, have a good Halloween.

It's Finally Autumn!

Raining, dark, lovely... I'm sure it'll be 80 degrees again next week, but it's a nice respite.

In more/less important news, how is it that things like "Sayonara, Syrian Nukes" happen totally -- sorry about the impending pun -- under the radar? A month ago. Weird.







Washington Post

You may have heard of Texas...

...it's a pretty big state. Wikipedia says that it's 261,797 square miles (of course, on any given Monday, Wikipedia might tell you that Chuck Norris is the King of Texas, too, so take that statistic with a grain of salt. On the third hand, I suspect that Ranger Norris may, in fact, have some sort of monarchical role in the secret government of the People's Republic of Texas, so who knows?).

Anyway, I got distracted, there. Texas is big, right? Well, you may or may not know that there is a large toxic island in the Pacific that's twice as big as Texas and composed primarily of onshore plastics that have been tossed in the trash. A LARGE, TOXIC, ISLAND, visible from space, over half-a-million square miles in size.

Paper or plastic?


(*Thanks for bumming me out, Boing Boing.)

All's Fair...

Andi and I hit the State fair on Saturday with our friends Steve and Anna. It was fun, fairly people-intense, and mostly food-centric. The cows were cute, but the four-mile lines for the Ferris Wheel were not. All in all, thumbs up.

Wonder what I'm eating? In my left paw is a cup of Deep Fried Coca Cola. Yes, it really is, and it tastes like... Well, not much else that I've ever had, and I've eaten whole pickled eels, raw crawfish brains, and fresh blood sausage. In my other hand is a Deep Fried Peanut Butter-and-Jelly Sandwich. Yes, it really is, and it tastes like... Ambrosia. And I've eaten Pocky sticks and Jammy Dodgers.



The food came from this place, which will also deep fry a bologna sandwich, Twinkie, or banana pudding:









Now that is good, clean, American fun. This is a giant chicken in armor:









These were my fellow travelers:

Piper at the Meadowmont Club Pool

On the last day of their season, one of the local pools lets the chlorine level slip and then invites dogs to swim (entrance fee: $5 donation to the local humane society). Fun ensued:

BOO! (Warning: Adult Content)

Somehow, this mask is more lifelike than the real thing...

(Scroll down for the horror.)

Moving Decision

I have seen our future home, and it's for sale on EBay.

Seriously.

57 Acres near Spokane. $300,000 down.

Oh Boy!

The future l'enfant terrible has revealed a gender: It's raining men! Time to start brushing up on the boy-rearing classics... Field of Dreams, Star Wars, Oedipus Rex, pissedOff.com, etc.








By the way, my in-house concept artist has helped me out yet again. Statistically, the lad is 98% likely to look like an exact 50/50 blend of these two images:

Andi and Piper -- One of 'em went swimming last weekend

Crib Notes

Kid furniture! All we're missing is a noisy and smelly little monkey.

Goodbye, 'Lander.

It's interesting how certain people, places, events, media, etc. can catch us as just the right developmental phase and plant a deep seed of affection. One example in my case, as my friends can attest: I was a huge fan of the movie Highlander. I first saw the original film as part of a cinema immersion over at Jason and Ryan's house, sandwiched between -- and I am 100% certain that my memory is faulty on this one -- Lethal Weapon and Raw Deal. I was hooked immediately and rented it from the Video Station the next night to watch with Dad (it was important, you see, to share my discovery).

I suppose that my immediate fascination was borne of that perfect storm of goofy production values, pseudo-epic mythology, quasi-martial arts, location shots in Scotland, and the bizarre coolness of marble-mouthed Chris Lambert (who, just to burst your bubble, was actually born in Great Neck, New York). Any freudian readings of my interest that center on a fascination with two sweaty, male, warriors swordfighting involves issues nicely repressed, thank you. Since then, I've seen the original movie dozens of times, and I've seen every one of the theatrical versions in the theaters on their opening weekend. I have seen every episode of the television series and can quote blah-blah, etc., etc... I don't need to belabor my Highlander-cred; Just accept that it holds a dear place in my heart.

Which brings me to Highlander: The Source. I don't have the heart or motivation to really review this thing, but suffice it to say that it was really, really, bad. All of the threats to a film's potential quality that come from issues like multiple directors and screenwriters, shoe-string budgets, the weight of leaden narrative continuity, multi-national production "support," B- list actors, derivative plots, etc. created a volatile cesspit of quality that, when sparked by at least three horrible ideas for breaking new ground with the core concept, ignited into a conflagration of cinematic crap. I've known for a while that there really don't seem to be any more Highlander stories to tell, and this movie, unfortunately, proved it. The "rules" of a Highlander movie -- part of what made it so cool to a 13-year-old -- define a very specific, and limited, storytelling environment. I'm absolutely certain that The Source has killed Highlander for the time being, just as I bet the people (Panzer and Davis; one of whom, I think, is now dead (which must make for some odd business meetings)) that own the rights will decide that the only way to spin up the engine on their derailed money train will be to remake the original one of these days. Shrug.

If nothing else, The Source is a fitting cap for my Highlander experience, the firebomb to balance out that long-ago hurricane of my interest and excitement. "Who wants to live forever?" indeed.