Earth Rise Anniversary

Forty years ago on this Christmas Eve, there was another celestial entity orbiting the Earth at thousand miles a minute. The Apollo 8 astronauts were in the best position to view Santa Claus, but they were also in the best place to capture this image:

Even more incredible than the image itself is that it all happened by accident and that the astronauts did no expect to see such an event. I could only compare it to watching an eclipse in ancient times, maybe over a Mayan temple, and wondering what the gods were up to. We were so bound and defined by our terrestrial origins that we could not imagine our own planet rising. Imagine the earth rise from a planet like Mars. A tiny blue sphere arises over the red horizon and it is full of life! Earth with a singular and stunning abundance of life engages in the same cosmic dance the entire Milky Way.

Happy Earth Rise 40th Anniversary! Oh, and Merry Christmas, too.

Peace!

Chia Christmas Countdown Day 14 (I think)

I should give up on trying to keep track on these days. However, the Chia tree has yet to give up.

The mature seedlings have sprouted out and become leggy tendrils. Just like any other plant, they follow the sun and curve as necessary. Other seeds are still just sprouting and try to establish themselves amongst their taller brethren. I rotate the tree every other day to help it give an even look, but that might be a futile exercise. Who knew Chias were so much upkeep. Deceptive commercials make it seem like a permanent mantle piece that keeps level and even all the time.

If you can't believe classic commercials then who can you trust. Do you need to take your pet rock to the vet? I already know how hard it is to coerce your slinky down a flight of stairs. Maybe because mine were never carpeted like on the ads.

Peace!

PR Watch...¡Si!

Let's talk jungle cats.

Introducing a new function here on the FOTBP called PR Watch...¡Si!

Readers of the older and now defunct Blog of Plenty might remember my occasional observations on the wackiness back home in Puerto Rico. Actually, wackiness is a poor word choice since my blogs posts focused on things like the island going broke (hence, creating a sales tax for the first time) or one of the umpteen school strikes at the U of PR where some students actually held self-taught classes in the street while other students (in charge of the strike) tried to stop the DIY classes. Learning bad! Screaming good!

Those are serious subjects that scholars both external and internal have spent much time analyzing. What the hell is the FOTBP going to do add to those discussions?

My new feature is in the same light, but some real wackiness. On an island where you can ask for French fries with your Chinese food (Oh, hell yes, you better add them to my order) there has to be something wacky. On an island where there is a brand of doughnuts you can only buy from street vendors at red lights, there has to be something crazy. On an island where you could have your car washed by a guy with a little hot dog cart full of water and soap at the mall parking lot while you shopped, there must be something for the blog. There are jungle cats! HOOOOO!

Quick history lesson. There are no big cats native to Puerto Rico just as there are no native mammals. This is pretty common for small islands that were geographically isolated from larger mainlands. As serendipitous it was for a lizard or bird to awash on the island's shores, it would be even rarer for a panther to show up rafting in on some driftwood from Florida.

But a panther indeed now stalks the island. Or at least, authorities believe it is a panther. Did I mention it will help a lot if you read/speak Spanish? If not, you are going to have to trust me, but, go ahead, read those stories up on the blog. You think I could make this stuff up?

This story broke in mid November, but people in and around the western edge of San Juan have begun to report seeing a "black panther." A lady reported a dead sheep on the day after Thanksgiving to the PR version of the Interior Department, the Department Of Natural Resources and the Environment or DRNA by its Spanish acronym. The attacks were happening around a neighborhood called Caimito, which is heavily wooded and hilly. Caimito then abuts into a posh gated community called Montehiedra that then neighbors a small mall by the same name. In fact, my childhood home was in the neighborhood right next to all of this albeit cut off by a four lane highway. The whole area is iconic of the concrete mushrooming that represents over development, sprawl, and fragmented ecosystems in Puerto Rico. So there could be a panther around my old house. Or not.

No one seems to be able to find the big cat. Just like the Chupacabra, the Panther of Caimito leaves behind a trail of dead animals and flustered citizens. This report from one of the main TV stations in PR says that the thing ate a horse. A horse! But then a later report in the main PR daily paper says that no one has confirmed a dead horse. People have reported losing chickens, cats, and dogs, but the only confirmed victim has been that Thanksgiving sheep. Apparently its name was "Fugaz" Fugaz? I have no idea what that means. "Fuga" means a get away or escape. Escaperz, maybe?

Maybe it is a panther? Or a jaguar? A puma? Or nothing. One man in the Montehidera neighborhood reported that the saw the thing by his pool and that is was about the size of a German Shepherd and dark colored. One lady in this article says how she sleeps with the window open so she can keep an eye out for the cat. Great plan lady.

The DRNA dispatched teams to hunt the animal down and even the director took the hillsides with a machete. I wonder if he wore a pith helmet as well? Someone said they saw a tree with claw marks etched into the base of the trunk. HOLY SHIT! DRNA agents said they heard weird noises while searching, something that residents in the area have also reported. DAMN! With no leads and just one dead animal, the panther trail grows colder by the day and the DRNA has scaled back the search teams to a skeleton crew. If the thing does exist, then the authorities do have a lead and are ready to seek a warrant to search the reputed owner's house. But it still might not exist. How can you have a Plan B without a Plan A? There might be a guy out there with a missing big cat, but THE big cat does not exist. Shouldn't we be terrified of that other big cat?!

I also love how the article mentions a Panther Party tonight organized through Facebook. Reminds me of the Chupacabra hunting parties the mayor of Canovanas, the municipality plagued by the bloodsucking bastard, organized in the mid 90s. Except with beer.

If it is wacky and from PR, you will find it here. Peace!

Chia Christmas Countdown Day 10

What am I supposed to do now that it sprouted? I'll let you know when something crazy happens, like it evolves! Or when it looks like the Chia on the side of the box.

Peace

Chia Christmas Countdown Day 9 (I Think)

SUCCESS! Take a look.



Amanda and I returned from our weekend trip and the tree had survived the weekend and sprouted.

The picture shows a patchy tree and I am still waiting to vindicate those commercials that feature Chia growth more akin to Astroturf. The very top lip and bottom edges are the worse, but we do have some sprouts coming from the very bottom of the tree. Below the bottom of the lower branches (i.e. layer of terracotta), where I imagine they slid down from the upper grooves. Really bare spots are still patches of goo and particularly bushy spots are the products of multiple seeds piled on top of each other.

But we have have some growing from the inside out! They sprout up from the very top lip and out the opening where the star goes. We reuse the water that transpires into the drip tray and there must have been some loose seeds in the mix.

All this Chia maintenance makes me think of anatomical analogies. Chia pets are ripe for TWSS gags. I wonder why they haven't been incorporated into an episode of The Office yet. Million dollar idea!?

Peace!

In lieu of Chia

While I am out of town and away from the Chia this weekend, please enjoy one of my favorite new blogs.

The Million Dollar Arm

Here is the back story, which I first discovered in this wonderful Slate piece. A U.S. sports agent decided to create a reality TV show in India where contestants had to throw three consecutive 85 mph fastballs and these two guys, Dinesh Patel and Rinku Singh, were the winners. Well, Singh was the winner and Patel the runner up, but they came closest with some consistent 87 mph throws. They got $100,000 and the opportunity to come to the U.S. and throw in front of some more MLB scouts. Now the Pittsburgh Pirates have signed the guys on for next season. There are no guarantees they will actually throw in a major league game, however, but the possibility makes me giddy. And the Pittsburgh Pirates are one of the lowliest teams in the MLB, so don't expect Rinku on the mound of World Series, but the sheer surrealism and wonder makes it all worth it.

We have now entered a stage where reality shows are producing actual positions with actual effects. Sure, Donald Trump hired apprentices and the kids from Real World Seattle tried to run a radio show, but here are some reality stars that will be there on Sportscenter and the sports page for all to see. Last time I heard of Richard Hatch, he was running away from the IRS. They will even get their own baseball cards. That seals you into Americana! I do hope this becomes the standard in sports. I keep expecting to read the paper and see the Browns are having open tryouts. People could show up at Public Square downtown and bring a pair of cleats and some comfortable work out clothes. They get three trys to make a touchdown pass. The highest rankings gets to start next Sunday. Why not put it on TV?

Even better than their story is their blog. The Slate piece does a great job at covering the beautiful madness that are their posts, but I will mention my favorite. In this tough economic time, you still have to marvel at the sincere and wondrous views of America from two 19-year old guys from rural India.

Here is post from a month ago, "We went with JB sir to breakfast at a great American breakfast eatery called Dennys. Rinku ordered a breakfast aclled the Lumberjack. We now know that a Lumberjack is a person who works as a tree cutter in the forrest so they must eat a lot of food. this breakfast was quite huge. It had eggs, bacon, sausage, ham, potatos, breads, and pancakes. I had French Toast and both meals were very fulfilling."

I LOVE IT! The broken English and the sheer sincerity of it. No one in America talks so honestly. Welcome, boys! Denny's, a great American eatery? Well, I guess it is when you think about and imagine the first time you decided to get that Grand Slam. Or when your friends split three orders of Mozzarella sticks after a concert. Don't think about the last time you went there and left the place with indigestion. There are some neat memories at the Dennys and these kids love it. I also dig the lumberjack explanation. The guys' impressions of the U.S. fill me with some pride and some laughs. It really is dumb that we trademark a plate of food as "The Lumberjack," but if anyone was going to do it, it was going to be America. Fuck yeah!

Good luck to Rinku and and Dinesh! You know I will try to get to the game when the Pirates come into town and hopefully see one of you pitch.

Peace!

Chai Christmas Countdown Day 4

Success! We have sprouts! Take a look.


Well, the picture is not the best quality, but all those little white dots are sprouts. I feel like a I am back in third grade and the kidney bean I planted in a plastic cup has split open. Life!

Little cotyledons are coming up from the grooves. I hope for some actual green before Amanda and I leave town for the weekend. Don't worry. I will have updates as soon as I return and will put up some non Chia related posts via Blogger's time release feature.

Peace!

Chia Christmas Countdown Day 3

All quiet on the Chia front.

I removed the star from the top because I had no reason to light up the tree. Once we get some sprouts, I will turn it on and ring in the season Chia style.

Peace

Chia Christmas Countdown Day 2

It is the second day for our little Chia tree and it still looks like a science experiment. Of course, I did not expect any growth by the second day (The box predicts 3 to 5 days), but something besides a mess would have been nice.

No need for pictures because of the lack of change. I did mist it a few times yesterday* and spraying your terracotta doodad with a spray of water makes you feel like a real winner. I imagine this is what mushroom farming feels like except without the eventual dinner. Not that I have put eating Chia sprouts beyond me. I will do it for the Christmas countdown.

I already did so for the leftover seed gel. The package is not kidding around when it says you will not need all of the seeds. We, indeed, used as directed and still ended up with a good three teaspoons of the gel. What else to Chia besides the lining of me esophagus? Nothing horrible or great tasting right there, however. They slid down all slimy like and I was once again reminded of eating a passion fruit. I suggest you try one if eating Chia gel is not up your alley. I would describe the sampling as eating watery Jell-O with kiwi seeds dislodged from the embedded fruit

More updates to come. Peace!

*There is a one day delay on these pieces since I usually write them late at night. Hence, Day 2 was actually Tuesday, December 9, 2008.

Chia Christmas Countdown Day 1

First comes the setup.

I defaulted back into the same mentality I used while building Legos as a kid. My father had this obsessive compulsive habit of arranging all the pieces by shape, size, and color before building. It made them easier to find, but it took longer for that damn rocket ship to come together. I usually turned to the box and worried over the neat accessories like the helmets and little walkie talkies. When I did build, I would dig for the pieces in the box and whittle down the pile into a completed Lego.

The same happened with the Chia. The box said soak overnight. What!? It is my personal theory that nothing originally marketed on TV should have the word "overnight" in its instructions. That baby better work as soon as it gets home, because I waited 6 to 8 weeks of shipping. But then the instructions said soak for an hour. Whew! That is what I get for trusting the box. Legally binding arrangements are never printed on cardboard. That should have been my first clue.

Meanwhile, Amanda soaked the seeds. The Chia seeds (Salvia hispanica) look like tiny river stones and vary in how they switch from blue to white and then to granite. When wet, they release a gel like substance that binds them together. I originally thought this was a chemical additive, but it appears to be a natural property.

The wet seeds reminded me of passion fruit seeds which also come packed in an equally tenuous jelly cluster. We slather on gobs of the Chia gel onto the sculpture. That thing is no Thomas English Muffin and we had to guide the seeds into the grooves with out fingers. You had to get a rhythm down and stick to it. I had luck rotating the sculpture's base around my finger and letting the rotation spread everything around. Once completed, we ended up with a...slime tree.


Gravity started taking it to the thicker sections and the gel began to drip over the bottom edge. However, in a few minutes everything stabilized and we had our little alien hive. The thing looks like a pair of frogs humped on it, but I remain faithful that it will soon sprout.

The star is off in that picture, but it is pretty nifty. The color changing happens progressively and isn't manic like some sets of Christmas lights.

The drip tray takes a bit away from the wonder, but it is necessary. I will try removing it once the sprouts are fully grown. Either I would have beat the system or I will need a new TV. Either way, you win.

Day 1 complete. Peace!

Chia Christmas Countdown

The back is coming back to life and what better way to celebrate than with a Chia?

Yes, that Chia. The one available at Walgreens, Rite-Aid, CVS, and other fine retailers nationwide.

Amanda and I noticed this particular piece of Americana on TV the other night, and, damn does advertising work, because we immediately snatched one up at the local drugstore.

We got the Chia tree. It is basically a terracotta pine with grooves cut into the boughs. It includes a small opening at the top where you can slide a color changing LED star. We intend to use it as our Christmas tree and put teeny tiny presents underneath it. That saves us a ton of money. New buttons and safety pins all around!

The commercials (Ch-ch-ch-chia!) are forever etched into my brain. Chia Pets are made by the same guys that sell the Clapper, so they come with an advertising pedigree. If things keep going the way they are right now, you might not see an American car in a few generations. But there will always be Chias to pick up at the gas station or end of the supermarket aisle.

I did some research into them for this post and they are not just the product of an advertising wiz. They originate from a Mexican handicraft tradition where chia plant seeds are spread over clay figures. The grass that grows on the sculpture imitates fur and adds a bit of whimsy. Not too different from our setup, except for the marketing which produced a rare Mr. T Chia back in the A-Team hey days! Check it out here. You can watch his mohawk grow, but good luck trying to get him on an airplane.

What makes Chias so popular? Maybe it is the growth. Gardening is a popular hobby and even those without a green thumb might dabble with a houseplant or two. It is a knick knack, but the hint of life gives it some more authenticity. Here is something that should be cared for and not just left to collect dust. And there is the nostalgia factor as well. I was truly excited to setup my first Chia, feeling as if I were about to partake in an enduring tradition. This wasn't just a novelty item. It was part of the lexicon. I only needed my Pet Rock, Clapper, and Thigh Master to feel complete.



On to the experience. I will track the progress of our Chia tree on the blog throughout the holidays and see how this works out. Is it as easy as the commercials make it seem? Or is it a houseplant lite?

Peace.

Fever Dreams

Last week, I had a horrible cold that make my asthma flare up and bronchioles go all aflutter.

I treated it with a mixture of everything we had in the medicine cabinet. However, those were mostly second string treatments. The only rescue inhaler I had was the OTC Primatene Mist stuff. Any asthmatic unfamiliar this relic is lucky. The active ingredient is adrenaline, one of the earliest and first improved upon asthma treatments. It jumps starts your lungs by inducing a smaller version of the "fight or flight" response in your brain. To the uninitiated, imagine trying to cure your cold with an IV of Red Bull and you could get the picture. After repeated uses, the stuff stops to work, but I actually kept taking it for a slight tiny jonesing for the Styrofoam taste of it. Also, it comes in a bulbous container colored the same buff yellow of a whitehead pimple. Seems like an odd design for something that is pure adrenaline. They need to make this bad boy sexy and fierce looking. Maybe a lightning bolt or a racing stripe! It will kick that crap out of your asthma...for 10 minutes! And then it will move on to your throat!

Also, my Vicks Vapor Rub had expired. I had no idea that stuff could expire and that little date etched into the side was not fibbing. The stuff didn't work! I lather my chest and throat in the slime and felt no soothing vapors. I was just slimy. I might as well have tried to slip into a wet suit or slide down an air duct for all the grease that was on me.

The first night of the cold, I slept in intermittent periods of 15 minutes. As the night progressed at the same pace of a hockey game, I had a continuing dream where I was in prison. Not a regular prison, but a single dark room. The plaster on the walls was colored yellow, but that color had to come through black and brown smears. There was a chair. It was spindly, with metal legs and a puffy vinyl cushion with the seams coming apart. The only light came from a small barred window high up off the floor where the wall and ceiling met.

In the dream, I had the feeling I had done something horrible. I never figured out why I was trapped, but it was a heinous crime for sure. The only hint was a nagging feeling that many people had died, but it had all been an accident. An accident I caused.

I spent the night coming in and out of the dream. The room in the dream reciprocated well with our own sparse bedroom. A few times, I awoke and thought that I was still trapped. Except this time it was in China and the nagging guilt only felt stronger because everything in this room (i.e. the bedroom) was palpable and tangible.

After that evening, I spent the day feeling a bit better, but by the evening I had relapsed. We ended up going to the urgent care and getting an asthma treatment and some prescriptions. I also learned that I had the early stages of an upper respiratory infection and ended up on antibiotics. All better now, however. And you got a blog post out of it!

Peace!

Stumble in

Hey! If you came across the blog from the Lucy magazine site, then thanks for coming here! And thanks for reading Lucy, which was so kind in letting me write something for them.

As for this blog, I am always thinking about posting something new, but then...

Peace!

Eiger Dreams

I apologize for being gone for so long. Everything is in flux right now, but for the better. Whether it be a better job or some more writing gigs, it looks like good news for Garik. There might be some more writing coming along and while it does not pay, it feels great to be actually read. Might bring some more people to the blog as well.

One wonderful recent read isJon Krakauer's Eiger Dreams. It is a compilation of his late 80s and early 90s articles for magazines like Outside and National Geographic. It also features an early version of "The Devil's Thumb" essay from Into the Wild, where Krakauer compares his own youthful exuberance with Christopher McCandless ill-fated adventure.

Krakauer could write a book about dryer lint and I would read it. Actually, I implore Mr. Krakauer to write another book. About anything! Canned mushrooms packed in brine. The history of folding chairs. Electrician's tape. Anything! Krakauer is the literary version of Chuck Norris.

Behind Krakauer's beard is nothing, but another turn of phrase!
Krakauer does not write books. He renders them from the granite under his boots.
No one edits Krakauer's books. He presents them carved in the stones of Everest.

Seriously boss

Krakauer possesses a lovely verbiage. "Sheldon's career coincided with the mushrooming popularity of mountaineering on McKinley," reads one sentence from "The Flyboys of Talkeetna." His choice of words does not originate from the obscure end of the thesaurus, but the forgotten verbs swept away by "to be" variations. I read Krakauer to challenge my own writing skills. Reading him, you can appreciates his knack for journalism and in conversation and research. A real common piece of writing advice is Mountaineering lends an entire list of dynamic and interesting words. I try to insert the word bivouac into everyday conversations, but find I have little opportunity to reference a temporary encampment. Caribiner, crampons, ice axes, glacial airstrip and then there are the locations names like Denali, Chamoix, or K2.

Krakauer does not answer why people climb mountains. But in The Devil's Thumb he mentions how mountain scapes have an almost pornographic feel. In staring at a picture of the eponymous mountain in Alaska, Krakauer says, "How would it feel, I wondered over and over, to be on that thumb nail-thin summit ridge, worrying over the storm clouds building on the horizon, hunched against the wind and dunning cold, contemplating the horrible drop on either side?"

I get the same feeling when looking at pictures of tiny islands. Veteran readers might remember my obsession with these bits of obscure geography. Krakauer's bit on mountaineering verbalizes the sames feelings I have on these spits of land. How would anyone survive if stuck there? How would you deal with the isolation? Would you pace the island from end to end, dominating your city block sized empire?

My favorite piece in the book is "On Being Tentbound," an essay where Krakauer narrates how to live in a phone booth sized fabric envelope for days. Or even weeks. The sense of isolation speaks well to the aforementioned dangerous wonder. Mountain climbers have attempted to recreate Monopoly sets from memory and studied the back of food packages. Since he wrote this in the late 80s, Krakauer just touches on the nascent handheld video games and Walkmans of the time. I would bring my PSP up Everest so I could play GTA: Liberty City Stories in the storm! Woo! Books are important, but you can only bring so many. I would bring all four of Krakauer's as they always offer something new.

Peace

Books I Should Have Already Read, Vol. 5

Punching in for another installment of the series....

Books I Should Have Already Read, Volume 5

Nickle and Dimed

By Barbara Ehrenreich

This is one of those "Ithaca" books that felt like everyone back there had read and discussed. Other examples of such books included Fast Food Nation; Eat, Pray, and Love; State of Denial; A People's History of the United States, and anything by Michael Pollan. What I am trying to say is that I heard a lot about this book and already understood the basic gist of it.

And the subject is one hell of a pitch. Barbara Ehrenreich decided (at the suggestion of her editor) to try and make it as a member of the working poor. She would leave her persona and profession behind to find housing and sustenance on $7 to $8 dollars an hour. She worked as a waitress in Key West, FL; a home cleaner in Maine; and a Wal-Mart store associate in Minneapolis, MN. There are other odd jobs in between (hotel maid, food service worker, etc.) and failed attempts for some others.

Ehrenreich's writing is strong and the narrative is compelling. She distills the ins and outs of job applications to their mind boggling details. As someone who has taken a slew of those Unicru Assessment Tests, (I can tell you that I "Strongly agree" that "It is infuriating when the court lets guilty criminals go free" and "Most people can be trusted.") it was wonderful to read how those tests are just filler. Instead of assessing your personality, the tests are meant to squeeze out your loyalty. And you are not even working for them yet! Would you get any job at all if you put anything but a big fat zero in the "How many dollars of company materials have you stolen in the past year?"

The book's central challenge isn't to any one employer, but the idea of the American Dream. The idea that if you work very hard you can have a piece of the pie and rise up from the bottom rung. This idea is core to our Master Narrative and Ehrenreich's questioning of it makes for a prickly book. Understandably, the book sends the Right into a fit. Ehrenreich does herself no favors when she plays right into the "liberal academic snob" that pundits love to hate. She is able to deduce that a household with books by John Grisham and Rush Limbaugh (Literature she describes as on the "low-end" of the literary spectrum) isn't filled with the brightest bulbs. She attends a church revival in Maine, in hopes of finding some entertainment in a small town, and finds it all quite silly. On the revival, "But Jesus makes his appearance here only as a corpses; the living man, the wine-guzzling vagrant and precocious socialist, is never once mentioned, nor anything he ever had to say. Christ crucified rules, and it may be that the true business of modern Christinaity is to crucify him again and again so that he can never get a word out of his mouth."

Yeeesh. Did I just stumble into Christopher Hitchen's God is Not Great? Cause that is one is still on my "to be read" pile. I am no fan of Limbaugh and an atheist, but did she really need to say those things? I understand that in a book about the poor, it might be wise to mention Jesus since he was all about helping the poor. He was poor himself. But, this is the only mention of him in the whole book! I would have prefered something like, "Hey, it would be great if Rick Warren and Pat Roberston really stumped for the poor and calm down a bit about this whole gay marriage bit."

People were having fun at that revival. It would not be my kind of fun, but they can go nuts. I find writing for free on a blog nobody reads plenty of fun! I am sure those folks would not. Did she met the people in that house and actually have a conversation with them? When I used to live in Ithaca, fellow progressive/left-leaning/hippie/whatever folks, would often judge me by the media I view. "My God, Garik! You watch prime time television!?"

"Hell, yeah! The Office is on and then we can watch Lost!"

Such arguments do the movement no favor. I have ranted about this before, so feel free to browse the archives. Please, browse the archives! PLEASE!!!

Ehrenreich makes some sharper observations when she turns the lens to the working poor's situation. If we expect the "lower class" to cook our fast food meals and stock our Big Box shelves then they need to drive out to the suburbs. Or they find housing in the suburbs. And once the wealthier class gets nervous about having those folks in their neighborhoods, they move further out and continue the cycle. I am new to my little Cleveland inner-ring suburb (Lakewood*), but I often hear how Section 8 housing has ruined it. Lakewood is a nice place to live if you end up cleaning houses in Bay Village or selling Halloween costumes in Rocky River. It is close enough to the outer suburbs and relatively cheap enough to live in.

She challenges assumptions that her jobs were "dumb" jobs filled by "dumb" people. She frames this in light of her academic experience and PhD. It was still hard to learn how to master the backpack vacuum cleaner and register! I understand her viewpoint, but nothing except experience on the actual machine itself will prepare you to handle it. I think what Ehrenreich was trying to do was portray herself as someone considered "smart" by society in "dumb" jobs. An honest analogy, but an awkward presentation that can come off as snobby.

Regardless, these are not dumb jobs. Every job and workplace has policies, politics, and a culture that you need to adjust to. When I am faced with a new register at a new job, I don't think back to my degree. I do that for my writing gigs. In this gig, I am begging the senior staff to walk me through the process.

She budgets down her earnings to demonstrate how difficult it is to get by on $7 an hour.This provides the greatest challenge to the American Dream of working hard and getting that house in the suburbs However, the book is filled with people that bust their ass everyday doing the repetitive work and still can not rise up. If something was supposed to happen, if something was supposed to "trickle-down," then why hasn't it yet?

All these discussions reveal a inherent conundrum in the book. Most of the debates around poverty, welfare, and the working poor are based on anecdotal evidence. Ehrenreich's book is a great read, but it only represent relatively isolated cases. Her writing is great and you feel for these people,but for every (insert name) she met, someone probably has the opposite example. My parents grew up damn poor and worked hard so that they could prepare me for all this blogging. Oh, and life too. Thanks to the efficiency of Puerto Rican social services, my grandmother (who was in her late sixties when she recently passed) collected WIC and the PR equivalent of food vouchers. I remember her once telling me to run down to the store and use the EBT card to buy groceries. In a moment that would make Ronald Regan** proud, I refused to use the card and instead paid for the groceries (I think it was some rice and Vienna sausages) with a twenty dollars I have saved up from my lunch money. It felt wrong to use that money when I knew we were not lacking. Of course, I also deduced that the cashier would wonder why a fifteen year old was whipping out a welfare EBT card. I got this one, granny. No jail time for me***.

So there are people that abuse the system. Go on the Cleveland.com message board to find supposed proof of these moochers. The rants you read up there are part of that anecdotal evidence. Personal responsibility is a big part of the equation. If you cannot afford something then it is simple economics that you should not buy or have it. Then again, such statements ignore the realities faced by some of the working poor. Hell, I am working poor. Not to dive too much into a sob story, but I have and still do work in similar jobs and situations. It would be great if I owned a car since I have actually been rejected from jobs for not having one. A car would open up a whole other side of town for me. Financing one would be risky, so I am left to sorting out jobs based on their criteria and proximity to a bus line. Ultimately, I am responsible for this, but it speaks well to Ehrenreichs comments on how it can be hard, almost impossible, to break out of poverty. Worse of are those workers that want to climb up and go to school, but have no time. A single working mother might dream of bettering herself, but cannot consider taking a break between her current job and her children.

She challenges the idea that poverty stems from joblessness. All her co-workers are (duh!) employed, but they often work two to three jobs, still struggling to make ends meet. She does not dwell much into her co-workers personal lives (Another quip I had with the book is that it presented everyone but Enhereich as utterly defeated. It seemed no one had hobbies except being a loser and dreaming about going to Dairy Queen), but it seems that most of their money gets spent on necessities. Again, their is plenty of anecdotal evidence that people can waste away their paychecks of vices and unnecessary luxury items. Then there is the argument of what are necessities. Is a car a necessity? Well, no, I guess, but don't we live in a car culture? Is Internet a necessity in today's world? My job searches would be render impotent if I stuck to newspaper classifieds. When does a specific food item become a luxury?

She does mention how all her co-workers either share an apartment house with roommates, friends, or families. Enhereich approaches every situation alone and that takes a bit of the bite out of her argument. Few people end up with absolutely no support groups like a friend to borrow some money from or family member's couch to crash on for a night. I read some critiques online that said this dismissed her entire thesis. I understand that it is rare to find people in such situations as Enhenreich, but this was an experiment and that was a variable she choose to control. Being as she mentions how all her co-workers double up on housing and job (One in Key West actually lives in a van down by the river!), I don't consider this a glaring flaw. She probably chose this condition, including an aversion to social help, particulalry religious charities, to concentrate the impact of her experience. Albeit, these are not conditions you should impose if you find yourself in a similar bind.

The book deserves to be widely read. I mean, it has already, but if there was a book I would have everyone read then it would be this one. It instantly creates discussion and debate because everyone makes (or tries to) make ends meet. The constant back and forth about the "working poor" even with anecdotal evidence demonstrates how it hits across all social spheres. A well off person might not necessarily care about the poor's condition, but they would have something to say about it. Nickle and Dimed obviously wants the reader to agree with Ehrenreich's conclusion that the working poor are screwed by the "owner class." At the very end she even mentions a sort of workers revolution where the poor will realize they are getting the Reganomics shuffle. I don't know if that will ever happen, but Ehrenreich chronicled and wrote about these experiences during the tail of end of the 90s and into the early part of this current decade. It is sobering to read this book in light of the recent mortgage crisis and sour economy. During her Key West sojourn, Ehrenreich mentions how the $5 a day for gas are really eating into her budget. Could it have been conceivable that we would hit a day when people making the same wages as Ehrenreich struggled with $4-a-gallon gas? What about everyone affected by the mortgage crisis? Getting back into the murky waters of anecdotal evidence, what do we say to families that tried to finance a house and had the rug pulled out from under them?

Regardless, the book offers an engaging read about an often forgotten sector of the economy. You can read it and be angry and the companies or the workers, but it will get your mind thinking and ideas churning. And if our economy moves towards a post-industrial one, dominated by innovation and service/hospitality, then you will see even more and more of these jobs in the headlines. There are some other issues with her analysis. She could have always returned to her regular life, if things got dicey. It would be an experimental failure, but security. Few people have such safety valves. But, the heart of the book remains solid. There are many obstacles to "making" it in America and the American Dream from the Master Narrative does not factor any of those. Some of these obstacles are personal and require that an individual prioritize what is important to them. Some of these are economic, racial, social, and gender based. Some can be cured with a quick "Suck it up an deal with it!" Others might need a "Hey, do you need some help?" Nickle and Dimed tells us that this is all very complex and that it deserves our attention.

Peace!

*In all actuality, I love living in Lakewood and do not see much to these arguments. Again, anecdotal evidence. Maybe I live in the "good" part of town. I find the mix of people and classes engaging when compared to the angry hippie echo chamber of Ithaca.
**Not that I was trying to impress him or anything. Ronald Regan gives me the willies!
***My grandma could fill up an entire series of blog posts. About a year before she passed, she got worried that the PR government, in a stunning act of doing something, would bust her for these welfare shenanigans. To make herself appear needy, she proposed sending my sister and I each a sum of some $10,000 to hide. You know, while things settled down and the tax man left. Yes, my grandmother wanted to turn me into an offshore tax shelter. And don't blame this on old age. She was nuttier than pistachio ice cream, but always lucid. The transaction never happened. This was great considering how I would need my own real tax shelter to explain that to the IRS.

Why No Post?

In the words of blogger extraordinaire, Dave Campbell, why no post Garik?

Well, I have been busy of late, which is always the excuse, but this time I am busy doing something dear to this blog.

I have been writing. A lot. Nothing really huge. Some news briefs three times a week and some articles for small Cleveland area publications, but people actually read those pieces. And, I do all of this for free! So it is exactly like blogging!

I will have another installation of "Books I Should Have Already Read" up soon. So look forward to that. All two of you, that is.

Peace!

Wild Accusations

This past weekend, I got into a discussion about board games with some folks from Ithaca. The conversation turned to the Parker Brother's game Clue and I proclaimed, "Oh man. I used to love Clue. I would play the hell out of it, begging my parents and anyone interested in playing a round."

Whenever you walk by board games in the store, you will often see a small label on the box saying "Plan a Family Game Night!" This is definitely a neat idea and wholesome campaign, but Clue should not be one of those games. Who would believe that it was a board game (not those dreaded video games) that would ruin our children?

And this is not because clue is about a murder. Not at all. That aspect of the game "keeps its real!" If I was in a mansion with a bunch of other well to dos, I would not be moved to playing Dick Tracy because someone lost their antique silver jewelery box. Sucks to be you I guess. Now where are those apple puffs? But a murder?! Holy crap! The killer could still be here! And I can't leave the house because I already paid the baby sitter for a full evening's worth of care. Let's do it!

Here is where Clue fails because it teaches children to run around making false accusations. Why doesn't anyone ask, "Hey, shouldn't we leave the homicide investigations to the professionals? Like the police?"
Apparently not. Didn't you just hear that I paid the sitter for a full evening? She is never going to give me my money back. I am going to find that bastards because it sure beats sitting around and those apple puffs just ran out.

Play too much Clue and you become a teetotaler. But an amateur one. Instead of seeing the deed, you run around spouting off more theories than Mulder and Scully until one sticks. The playground beatings will be swift!

Peace!

Books I Should Have Already Read, Vol 4

Just in time for the movie...

Books I Should Have Already Read, Volume 4

Watchmen by Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons

Well, first off, I will defend considering graphic novels on equal footing as any "proper" novel. Reading six issues of your favorite monthly comic book wrapped into a trade paperback format is not reading a novel, but graphic novels are one shots designed with characterization, depth, and length in mind. Graphic novels have won Pulitzer Prizes and Time Magazine considers Watchmen one of the 100 Best of the English language. So, if my lowly opinion isn't enough (It isn't!?) then trust these respected institutions.

Considering that I discovered my inner comic book geek a scant two years ago it makes some sense that I missed Watchmen. However, the work is seminal and won a Hugo award, so it is not like I had failed to hear about it before I stepped into Comics for Collectors one June day.

I had read some of Moore's work before and appreciated the sense of detail and expansiveness to his graphic novels. I enjoyed the hell of out of Top 10 and it's police drama meets comic book world. It had so many injokes and references to other comic books that it really was a delight to read. In a world where everyone has super powers and/or is a super heroes it makes perfect sense for things to play out in comic book logic. So having the exterminator reset the timeline for your mouse infestation makes perfect sense even though you do not remember asking him to do so.

V for Vendetta was a great book even though it took me a few reads to wrap my head around it. I have yet to read From Hell and some of his single issue work, but there is still plenty of time.

But, how did I miss Watchmen for this long? Isn't it the best graphic novel of all time? Many believe so.

As I have mentioned before in these posts, it is difficult to write anything new about these works. I started reading comics in a post Watchmen world and the book's influence is apparent. I imagine reading Watchmen when it first came out and rereading the hell out of it because it just felt so real. Wouldn't it make sense that the government would try to crack down on masked vigilantes. If cities can now legislate what kind of oil a restaurant can use then why would they stand by and let some armor clad weirdo jump over roof tops? And Watchmen dares to answer all those "what if" questions like "What is Batman has to pee while chasing the mugger" or "What happens when Daredevil sleeps those two hours every night?" Well, people get hurt and crime keeps going on. Superheroes (Or "Masked Adventurers" as per the book's terminology) inspire fear in criminals, but they might also inspire fear in those they protect. Aren't these people human? Maybe they might mistake me for the perp and crack my back in half by accident? Regular cops did have some code to bind them.

Of course, there are numerous examples of this kind of realism or psychological depth in current comics. I read one analysis of Watchmen that said Moore had released a sort of four-ink genie that now equated gratuitous violence with real and real with good. Hey, Rorschach shoved someone into a refrigerator, so why shouldn't we do the same thing to Kyle Rayner's girlfriend? I think you can trace the umpteen times that Daredevil has been pushed way too far and has had to go way too violent to Watchmen. And where did all this raping in Identity Crisis come from? Well, not Watchmen per se, but I can see the point. Watchmen was wonderful because it broke from comics as a kitschy escape art for kids. Of course, some of those old stories were just lots of fun! Can't we have fun comics and "real" comics. I appreciate some nice realism, but sometimes I want to see a guy drop a battleship on the other guy.

However, this was not the effect Moore and Gibbons had in mind. The reason comics get any respect (albeit still minimum) is from seminal works like Watchmen. And, guess what, the book was both fun and real at the same time! Not for faint at heart, but it had some jokes, some punches, and some thinking to it. What is the real point of a superhero if all they do is fight the sickness of crime? If someone robs a store because they can't make the rent then should the hero try to smash the CEOs that terminated the robber's previous job? Or should the hero punish them both? One for robbing a man of his life and the other for robbing the 7-11 of one-hundred dollars. Why are these masked people better than me? Because they spent more time in the gym than I? Well I had to work! And, I look funny on the elliptical machine.

If you have not heard, there is a Watchmen movie coming out and upon first seeing the trailer I was thourughly confused. After reading the book, there is a spine tingling excitement in seeing the scenes play out now that I understand what is happening. I think they are definetly going for the fanboy approach here. It might be hard on those that are unfamiliar with the book. Spiderman and Batman have a ton of backstory, but in the end they are guys that punch the hell out of the others. The Watchmen do the same thing, but have all those neuroses that make you and me a delight to others.

I did not enjoy the story in 300, but appreciated the director's loyalty to the original comic's panels. If he does the same thing with Watchmen then it will be a movie to enjoy several times*. Just like the book.

Peace!

*Unfortunately Alan Moore has ben quite vocal in his disapproval of the film and his name is never to be seen on any of the credits. I only hope that the movie does well and introduces more people to comics and his work. Even if they came via the film.

Kitty Cat Rising

Below you will find the reason why I have not blogged in about two weeks...



The newest addition to our menagerie of animals: Lila M. Kitty!

We got her as a stray at the beginning of August and have spent the past weeks cat proofing the house and introducing her to the animals. She seems terrified of Carson Rabbit, but his routine of sleeping and eating has not been very fazed by her presence. And I think Dante Pig believes cats are just an urban legend. The little guy does not get out very much. Oh, but she is so cute and has extra digits on her front paws! She can hitch hike to places with those thumbs.

Of course, this now means I have another animal to PhotoShop with funny hats.

Posts will continue to be erratic, but I have a "Book I Should Have Already Read" for you by tomorrow!

Peace!

A Deer

At the end of this week, it will be four months since we moved to Lakewood from Ithaca. We have everything unpacked, but only a few days ago did I find a final spot for this one throw rug we dragged around the living room. This also means that the summer is ending. Where the hell did that go?

I am a nester. An emotional nester as opposed to a physical one. I used to sleep on a tapestry that I substituted for bed sheets proper and made maximum use of a dutch oven pot as bowl and deep frying pan. By nester, I mean that I tend to settle into a situation quickly. In all of my jobs I imagine the rest of my life as if it were my last job. What can I do with a career as a janitor? After twenty years of making copies as a law office assistant. I would hope for a raise or promotion, but I tried to make my peace as early as possible. This helps when dealing with horrible jobs and it does not stifle any desire for upward mobility. That is the whole reason why we moved.

I got used to the move quickly. Ithaca and New York state were the only places I ever lived in after my move from Puerto Rico. So, I accept that everyone says "pop" here even though you will never catch me saying that. Did we go through a time warp here and start saying pop, shopping at Woolworth's, and getting our food from car hops? I have already spoken about the cadence of the Cleveland, OH metro area and how it is refreshing after the Ithaca scene.

However, there is one aspect of Cleveland living that I have yet to acclimatize myself to.

People tend to freak out here when they see a deer. We were driving though the Metroparks (A lovely set of urban parks in Cuyahoga County) and suddenly hit a four car long crawl. People take the Metroparks' roads for both the scenery and lack of traffic lights. Why were people going so slow?

There was a deer. A pretty ho-hum doe. However, there was also a fawn and this must have flipped people's lids. It was a late summer fawn and the speckled white pattern faded underneath he adolescent chestnut coat. Cute, but considering that our old house in Ithaca had three to four fawns living on the lawn we reacted with "Get the hell going!" as opposed to "Oh, honey go get your camera!"

Anyone living on Ithaca's hills shares an intimate relationship with deer. Deer are so common place that they end up becoming defacto neighbors with their own patterns and preferences. I used to whiz surplus apples into the hedges and one resident put our entire heads of Romaine lettuce for the deer. This might seem excessive, but these are sacrificial gestures designed to protect mums and lily bulbs. We just had too many apples and I swear those deer knew me as the "Crazy Apple Guy." When you stare at their black mirror eyes you begin to imagine and legitimize anything in that void. All the deer need to do is ask to borrow a cup of sugar and they can become full fledged neighborhood citizens!* If deer were ever to evolve into a new species, it would happen in Ithaca.

Everything is relative. While people here might scream out, "Holy shit! Look at that deer!" an average Ithaca resident visiting the Cleveland area might remark, "Damn! Synchronized stop lights!"

Peace!

They do exist!

*If there isn't already someone advocating for deer rights in Ithaca then they are to come. Whatever happened to the dog park people? TCDEER, much?

Firemen Ring Out The Night

Here is that fiction piece I mentioned last week. It takes a letter to the editor format, which is figurative crutch since it helps me frame the action. I strain to use the word fiction since this could really be just a little slice of life piece. Vonnegut and Saunders have used this format in their short story compilations and in the hands of such talent, you get some poignant pieces. Saunders has this one piece ("99390" from In Persuasion Nation) which is nothing but the type out of a lab report (Made up, of course). It narrates the clinical results of brutal animal experiments and the repetition hammers away at your heart strings. This is just cranky. The title is supposed to remind you of the headlines you see above letters to the editor in the paper. There must be a subtle art to that titling. You could save time by just saying 'This guy is pissed!"

Enjoy!

___________________________________________________

Firemen Ring Out The Night
By Garik Charneco

Dear Editor O' Lalan:

Well, I have done it! I decided to "Not take it anymore!" I decided to remain patient no longer.

Oh, I had said these statements before. I will not lie. I often said them to the TV screen or the headlines of your very paper, but, I have now actually done it. I felt empowered after doing it. After taking this stand. Imagine voting, but with your lungs and not with a piece of paper.

I live on Dakota Avenue, right across from the Ward 3 fire station. I closed on this house forty years ago with my wife. We raised a single daughter here and now she lives in Milwaukee working at an art museum. I buried my wife from here three years ago. Well, not literally with something like an extra long steam shovel! And the school district and four different baby sitters had something to do with raising our daughter.

I am used to the noise of the fire station. My family made peace with its blaring cadence at the earliest moment. Every time before the firemen head out, a woman's voice blares from the PA. Her voice comes across muffled and nondescript like the voices of adults on the Peanuts cartoons my daughter used to watch. Her warnings bounce off the cement walls of the garage bay and come in through the living room windows.

"WUUUUUPPPP.....West Neeeintth.....akkkkkkk......truooookkkkk......kiiiiii.....WHAAAPP!"

After that comes the familiar truck and fanfare. When my daughter was younger, I secretly wished for a son that might better appreciate the trucks and tools. The whimsy waned on her as soon as she turned eight.

I did not hope to criticize firefighters. As I prepared this letter, I realized how unwise that proved today. But, I had to do something and I did it!

Neighbors will know what is next to the Ward 3 fire station. Bowden's Bar and Fan Tavern are next to the station and diagonally from my home. Why these bars have not merged into one watering hole escapes me, but I never adjusted to their cadence. It is too sporadic, fueled by different mixers and metabolisms. I have written about them before and even spoke to Mr. Bowden briefly, but I later heard he moved and left the business to his son. Screams, hollers, and the crackling of broken glass often rise up each Friday night. My wife and I made use of ear plugs and my daughter seemed to not be bothered. We made sure to keep her room as far back from Dakota Avenue so that her window overlooks our yard.

Recently, the fire station's and bar's soundtracks mixed. The firemen often spend summer nights on the driveway of their station in lounge chairs. They do not do much except sit. One sometimes reads a newspaper or paperback novel. One night they brought up a ping-pong table and exchanged volleys waiting for the alarm. This does not bother me as they would probably be doing the same thins indoor during the winter months.

But the bar patrons often approach the firemen. Particularly young ladies that like to scream out phrases like "Hooray for firemen!" or "You guys are so much cooler that those cops." Many stumbling patrons like to task the firemen to take their pictures. The men twist their hands into symbols and jut out their arms. The women strike a pose and hold their arms out the side or rest their heads on the firemen's shoulders. A bachelorette party once waltzed by the station and they made the firemen hold an inflated rubber penis while they did cartwheels on the station's lawn. The firemen clicked away with borrowed cameras and the one with the inflatable penis playful walloped his coworkers.

I do not think this would happen indoors. And why are the firemen encouraging such debauchery instead of turning the revelers away? Isn't this the kind of behavior that leaves a hot plate on the kitchen counter or knocks over an idle candle?

As I have mentioned already, I took a stance. On the night of the bachelorette party incident I sat on my porch. Through the cartwheels and screams I ducked down by the veranda and screamed out, "Hey! Are my taxes paying for this!?"

I did not notice any reaction, because I immediately scrambled back into the house. My knees still ache and I have yet to repair the door where the palm of my hand pulled the screen from the aluminum frame. Maybe this letter will bring something of it. A comment from a supervisor or remark from the fire fighter's union. I doubt the revelers will remark since they probably do not live in the city.

I suggest that all residents should try it out! The brick apartments across from city hall could become a new loud speaker for citizen's action. The bicycle shop could rent out a front window and a bullhorn allowing people to scream out "What will you do about county assessments!" or "Please lower the sales tax! The civic center is complete!"

It feels wonderful!

Sincerely,

Edward Meadows
214 Dakota Avenue

_______________________________________________

Peace!

Ball Dropped

Chuck Palahniuk released a new book* back on May 20th and I missed it!?!?!?!?! Where the hell was I? Oh yes, sitting here trying to unpack and sending off resumes at the same time. It must be mine and I put a hold on the library's copy faster than Sgt. Slaughter administers the Cobra Clutch.

While I dropped the ball on that and on posts this week, I will have something for you later. I am working on another piece of fiction. Excited? Well, probably not, but isn't that the reason I started this blog? And the reason why you tuned in?

Expect that sometime next week. I write all these fiction pieces on paper before putting them up on the blog. It helps center me and my writing (The posts would be worse if I did not use this paper filter), but it takes time.

Maybe some other pieces between now and then as well.

Peace!

*I have not read any reviews, but I get the sense that they are primarily negative. Is it another X-Files: I Want to Believe? Bah!

Santos Cielos!

After a full week of posts I come to you with some cosmic justice. I was getting into a blogging groove and then my computer crashed. I just woke up the next day and my desktop was making all kinds of horrible noises and failing to start up.

Thankfully, in a serendipitous turn of events, Amanda just got a new laptop and that is where I am currently blogging from.

Not really an excuse, per se, but this will seriously hurt my "Great Works Defiled" tradition of putting funny hats on the varmints. I had several pictures of the animals on the desktop and last thing I want to do is clutter up the laptop with such silliness.

I still have the blog, thankfully. Unless Google's computers crash, but, if that were to happen, I think people would want their G-Mail back up before FOTBP. When I could no longer access my files this morning, I realized that almost all my short stories are up on the blog. And all of my work for Tompkins Weekly remains on their website. I take a lot of pride in these little posts. Sure, they are riddled with typos I made in haste and lame jokes. But if trying to get someone to read any of this is my dream (My person, if you allow me to be so bold) then it is comforting to know that it will remain up and active. My work remains as "cloud computing," even though I really want those varmint pictures.

Peace!

X-Files: I Want To Believe-FOTBP Review

It is done. With the X-Files: I Want to Believe firmly in my cortex, I only need to wait for Transformers: Revenge of The Fallen to come out next June and my movie going days are set.*

I purposely stayed away from IMDB, Rotten Tomatoes, and even the local movie critic before watching the film. I tend to whore out the movie info sites before watching anything. I never look for spoilers, but any information is welcome.

Speaking of which...The Truth is Still out there and SPOILERS ARE IN HERE!

If you want to be surprised, then stop reading at the posters and look for the Apollo 11 logo at the bottom. Anything in between those two images comes with SPOILERS. I am sorry for the SPOILERS, but I cannot give my full opinion of the film without telling you about some concrete images.



Well, I liked it, but I am a die hard fan. If a movie based on a TV show were ever to alienate or disappoint its fanatics then something horrible must have happened. Something along the lines of the devil making the movie himself. The X-Files: I Want to Believe (IWTB) does no such thing. The exact opposite happens and everything seems to happen to bring Mulder and Scully to the focus.

What did the rest of America think about it?

EEEEPPP! A 31% rating on Rotten Tomatoes! Not good at all! That is only six points higher then Step Up 2: The Streets and five points below 2 Fast 2 Furious! What was that about the devil again?

It is not fair to compare those movies to IWTB. Both of those movies were horrible from the first teaser trailer. If IWTB is supposed to be as big a flop as that rating indicates then we were disappointed once the film ended? What happened?

Duchovny and Anderson bring back their patented energy and chemistry for the movie. Their own little drama makes up for the weak points in the plot. Anderson looks particularly fabulous as Scully. Time has been kind to her and she has not lost any of the dominance she had over the role. I think Duchovny looks great too and for an actor that has tried to move beyond the Mulder role, he falls right back into the quips, rants, and asides. Watching them on screen feels like slipping on a pair of old jeans. The people have still got it.

I got several of my movie wishes granted. No Krycek and CSM. Skinner shows up, but he comes so late in the movie that he is as ethereal as many of the ghosts the agents hunted during the series. I do not know what Mitch Pileggi has been up to since the series ended, but he to comes right back into the Skinner role. He just has the screen presence and intense look (Here in dubbed, "The Pileggi") that makes it feel like he is recognizing ten different things in the room he can use to kill you. You don't fuck with "The Pileggi" look.

Skinner's cameo was great, but it came out of nowhere. He just happens to pop out of black SUV after Scully says she need to speak to someone else at the FBI. What is he? The FBI's special teams? These quick intros and exits exemplify what I think to be the biggest weakness in the film. Like the season 7 episode, this movie is in a "Rush," and it shows. In an opening scene we are lead to believe that Scully and Mulder had some sort of a falling out and hardly speak to one another. This makes sense in light of Mulder's fugitive status at the end of the series and the existence of the neo-conspiracy. Scully has a bit of a tighter alibi and spared of Mulder's pariah status, she becomes a full-fledged doctor at a Catholic hospital. However, right after the scene where Scully explains the relationship, she drives up to an isolated farm house that she and Mulder share. I thought it was his little hideout, but that is there house. I ran with my mistaken belief through the first crime scenes. Mulder and Scully are definitely getting back into their groove while the question the supposedly psychic Father Joe (Well acted by Billy Connolly, but with little character development), but Scully fears that Mulder will be swept back into "the darkness." She would also then be swept into the mix, forcing her to abandon her work and terminally ill pediatric patient. Hence, they are former partners and lovers, divided by their desire for stability and safety versus "the truth."

Of course, the very next scene is a classic Scully in bed moment where she reflects on the case under the covers. We then see Mulder pull up from behind her and start to spoon with her! We do not get to see the deed, but it is directly implied that they made love just a few moments ago and you were probably out getting popcorn you sucker movie goers.

Don't get me wrong! Seeing Mulder and Scully spooning in bed like a pair of old lover set my fanboy heart a flutter. And not in some kinky way, but in a Fuck Yeah! sort of way. All wonderful stuff, but didn't we just spend thirty minutes realizing that they are trying to keep a low profile? I guess not.

The plot is a bit loopy. This creates both pros and cons. I will not get into any huge spoilers, but there a few notable scenes that just seem there to pad for time, most notably an exchange between one of the villains and a lawyer. Consequently, all the characters in that scene are played by no-names with no connection to the franchise canon. Considering that what brought Mulder and Scully back together was a missing FBI agent, we spend no time learning exactly why this agent is impossible enough to ask for Fox Mulder's help. Amanda Peet does as much as she can with her brief character and their are inklings that she is supposed to have some sort of professional crush on Mulder. Thankfully, these ham handed bits do not lead to a Scully/Dakota Whitney catfight and Peet's character is quickly killed off. This also felt rushed, as if the creators wanted to up the villains "evil" ranking. Are we supposed to feel bad for her? No one on the case seems to. Xzibit acts what is essentially an X-Files mold role of "super skeptical cop." He does it well with a deep voice that comes off as both authoritative and defiant. Like Sam Jackson Lite. Very lite, actually.

The nice bit of the loopy plot is that we get treated to several possible explanations for the crimes. Could it really be a psychic connection? Or is it something more mundane like plain old fashioned kidnapping? The twists are OK and keep the plot fresh, albeit un-shocking. The end proves anticlimatic. The agents get their man, but considering that the criminals one henchman is "Guy With An Ax," it makes you miss the days when the agents had to battle Alien Bounty Hunters and the entire Peacock family to solve the case. It was nice to see a true mad scientist as the villian and you cannot deny the sheer fun of an actual mutant two-headed guard dog! But, again, he only has one.

It is a beautiful looking movie with many gorgeous snows capes. None of the images are especially haunting or arresting, but the slow pacing of a line of FBI men with scouting poles contrasts nicely with the exploding summer blockbusters. There is one lovely scene where we view Father Joe face on as he walks toward us (i.e., a frozen lake). In the background is a snowy cabin and the spruce trees behind it are throwing off a faint miasma of snow that creates an icy rainbow. If the X-Files series had been shot as a cheap set sitcom/drama then these scenes would be mind blowing and innovative. However, IWTB is a victim of its parent's own success and just meets the bar of lovely X-Files backdrops.

Mark Snow is back at the sound board and you couldn't ask for anyone else but this series veteran to provide a soundtrack. There are some humorous touches. I think some people might find an early scene where Scully and Mulder are waiting in an FBI hallway and the cameras pans to a portrait picture of George W. Bush. The X-Files theme music then chimes in and both agents looked puzzled. This is both a jab at an unpopular president (And he looks particularly goofy in the picture in case you want to thrown in "Leftist Hollywood" conspiracy observations) and a reference to the show's history. Pictures of public officials are not uncommon in federal facilities and you could always see the floating head of Bill Clinton or Janet Reno in Skinner's office. In the later seasons this was changed to Bush to reflect his swindl...err...I mean election in 2000. In an ultimate "Pileggi" moment I could Skinner beating CSM to death with a framed picture of Janet Reno!

I find it interesting how many online discussions mentions how a successful (or unsuccessful) movie performance could determine the future of the series. I must have missed something because I consider this a nice epilogue. Like Sex and The City: The Movie, IWTB exists because it would be great to see our favorite characters again. The film is unkind to newcomers. If you never watched an episode of The X-Files then this would be a truly horrible movie. It might do well if you have a casual attraction to the show or remember older family and friends watching it in the 1990's. It can make you want to explore all the back story that the movie plays fast and loose with. All the nostalgic touches (William, the fish tank, the sunflower seeds, the pencils, Samantha, Scully's faith, etc.) whip up fanatics, but can either confuse or annoy first comers. Sadly, IWTB has no scares or chills. If this was supposed to be an important chronicle in X-Files history then where is the scary zing?! The writer play around with the very idea of the X-Files. When Scully fears that Mulder will get sucked back into "the darkness" and lose his mind he retorts by saying this is what he does. Interesting to consider the X-Files defined not so much by finding the elusive truth, but instead defined by the search for it. Getting there is half the fun in The X-Files and it lends the show an air of agelessness.

If you could not guess from the X-Files Week coverage, I was excited for this movie and the lack of hype actually made me even more anxious. I never expected it to become a smash, but still expected something higher then 31%. Designed to signal the end of the summer 2009 movie season, IWTB premiered only a week after The Dark Knight. Since our theater still had three screens showing that Batman bad boy it is safe to say that IWTB had quite the expectations to meet. We got a big long episode, which is usually the flaw in TV to film adaptations, but considering the movie was just supposed to have some fun in the X-Files universe, that formula feels necessary. It still accounts for many of the film's weaknesses, but bringing the conspiracy back to full life and ending on some cliffhanger would have muddied the X-Files experience.

I would have paid $9.50 to see Mulder and Scully share a cup of coffee and slice of pie at the local diner. I would have still wanted to see Skinner pull off his "Pileggi," but X-Files can take me anywhere. If IWTB makes even just one new viewer want to give the TV series a try then it was all worth it.




Peace and Don't Give Up!

*Well...they might make a Green Lantern movie. Someday. Or another movie based on a Palahniuk book or CivilWar Land in Bad Decline film. I pray for a Daredevil remake. Every God damn day.

Your homework is due

It is July 26, 2008 If you haven't seen the X-Files: I Want to Believe already, then drop everything you are doing and go see it! Yes, stop reading this blog and go! I shudder to think of all those new readers I must be losing, but you have to see the movie.

I already did. What did I think of it? Well, you will have to wait until Sunday for that. Use the time to go the see the movie! Peace!

The Day is Here!

It is July 25th! Back in the PR, it is Constitution Day and, depending on your political preferences, you are either celebrating or protesting. Everyone gets a day off and at every event there will be lots and lots of Coors Light. Seriously, Coors Light is to Puerto Ricans like Spam is to Hawaiians. Remember that truck from Smokey and the Bandit filled with Coors Light? It went right past the South and floated all the way to San Juan.

It is also the day the Andrea Doria sunk and the day the Cerro Maravilla killings took place and atomic test took place on Bikini Atoll and the Air France Concorde crash.

Christ on a Bike! What a day to launch what has to be the greatest thing to come out of 2008! The movie will make up for all those things*

What movie, you say?

DID YOU JUST STUMBLE UPON THIS BLOG!?!?!?

If so, thanks for reading and go to your local movie theatre because X-Files: I Want to Believe is premeiring today nationwide!!!!!!!

Just like the first X-Files movie, the creators have kept quiet about the film and I have stayed away from teaser/discussion sites. I will be thorughly unprepared for the film and isn't that the way we should watch our based on a TV show movies? Here comes a big episode and I refuse to press the "Info" button on the remote.

Of course, there are a few things I would like to see and not see. Let us start with the good...

• I would like to see or hear a reference to Doggett and Reyes. What ever happened to them after they break Mulder out of jail and escape the Black Helicopters? I realize that they are not in movie, but give us something Mr. Carter!
• I want Walter Skinner! Mitch Pileggi dominated that role and I even think he did his best when he narrated Fox's Magic's Biggest Secrets Revealed specials!
• Another Mulder and Scully kiss! EEEEE!
• The expected twist ending. All the "monster of the week" episodes ended with a twist that showed us the beasts were still out there. With the movie being a monster episode, I would appreciate a nice focus shot on a thicket of trees and then see some eyes staring back at us. With out such a touch, it really isn't X-Files.

What I would not like to see...

• Alex Krycek. HE IS DEAD! I remember the episode (Season 8's "Existence") where Skinner shot him ice cold killa style with a 9mm bullet to the head. I lept off the bed and shouted in murderous joy! Never have I despised such a TV villain until Lost's Others. It was fun to watch them blown to bits in the Season 3 finale.
• The Cigarette Smoking Man. He is also dead. He single handily changed history several times and is the Joker to Mulder and Scully's Batman**, but all men pay for their sins.
• Crap. Oh man, I really hope the movie doesn't suck.

Aside from those specifics, I just want to have fun! Here is a link to Fandango for those of you that have not already found your X-Files crucibl...errr....I mean local movie theather.

Peace and happy movie viewing!

*No, it will not. But it is still X-Files!
** An overreaching analogy, but, like Batman's Joker, Cigarette Smoking Man was originally created a a filler character. They then both grew to prominent evil doing.

Over A Shark Or Two

I do not think The X-Files ever "jumped the shark." Of course, I am quite the fan, so you would expect me to remain loyal even after the movie, Duchovny's exit, and the riddles wrapped in enigma conspiracy arcs. My definition for "jumping the shark" centers around an actually crazy or wacky stunt/plot point that makes me want to stop watching the show. As a fan, I appreciate the effort that creators and actors put into each little 44 minute drama and I do not immediately crucify them for a weak episode or two.

Jumping the shark needs to be something truly insane and out of character. Since the X-Files features many shades of mutant and monster, it's jump the shark would need to be big. Really big.

I remember when Amanda and I started dating and she introduced me to Gilmore Girls. A solid show that features a quintessential of "jumping the shark." We never got to see the final season on TV, because we did not have cable that year and Ithaca is infamous for it's lack of over the air broadcasts. I once got a Christian gospel channel and the FOX affiliate out of Syracuse with a massive English Lop style bunny ear antennae.
When we received the final season of DVD, we eagerly awaited for a resolution. Then there was that episode where a pickle train derails outside of Stars Hollow and makes the whole town stink of dill!

Oy! My sides! The hilarity just writes itself with that concept. Stop it Palladinos! You're killing me!

I mean, Stars Hollow, CT could not really exist to begin with, but do trains full of pickles criss cross our nation? Do they say "Pickles" on the side of the box cars? Are the box cars shaped like pickles, like in the Richard Scary books! Wouldn't the state or NTSB be involved in the gerkin disposal. Not the usual army of volunteers from Stars Hollow. The town could raise an army to rival Hannibal's elephants. And the quips they would deliver! OY!

That was crazy and we both just watched the rest to see what happened. Oh, and when did Rory become a stary-eyed hopeless romantic. Wasn't she going to change the world? Thankfully, Lorelai totally ends up with Luke, which is how it should be! WOOOOO!

OK, let's get back to X-Files. That is why I gave you that little picture of John Dogget and Monica Reyes. It is X-Files week. A Gilmore Girls week would probably result in me getting my ass kicked.

Duchovny's departure was a loss. Initially, I was left reeling. Where would X-Files go without Mulder? Isn't he the entire reason that unit got off the ground, albeit still in the basement offices of the FBI. I pretty much freaked out!

I now realize that losing Mulder did some good for the series. In a show where the agents are shot at, attacked by monsters, and killer viruses, it would make sense that a main character either dies or decides to retire. Mulder does neither, but within the show's organic potential, his exit is understandable. It would have been weirder if one of the characters from Friends got their head decapitated by driving a convertible under a truck trailer. The kids from Central Perk do not routinely engage in death defying so such a trick would be a true jump the shark.

In the wake of Duchovny's departure and Anderson's mostly behind the scene roles in the final seasons, we got new X-Files agents. I think that time has justified Agent John Doggett and Agent Monica Reyes. When they first appeared, there was this universal feeling of betrayal that the writers incorporated into the show. Upon first meeting Doggett, Scully is distrustful of the man supposedly sent to find Mulder and throws water in his face. I am not a mean ahead of my time, but I always liked Doggett and Reyes.

First off, Robert Patrick is a woefully undervalued actor. His role as the T-1000 brought him to national attention, but it limits the roles he is assigned. I would not cast Patrick to play the dad on 7th Heaven, but he excels in the Doggett role. He is just a good cop put into an insane unit. And with a mind better suited at finding murderers and kidnappers, he is supposed to track down batmen and guys made out of metal. He showed a sense of wonder when first encountering paranormal phenomenon (Even though he kept it inside) and stood in stark contract to Mulder. I love Mulder, but he always seemed to know what was the monster or anomaly. His sense of amazement came from "I told you so and here is proof." Doggett's comes from "HOLY SHIT. That guy's arm just melted off his body!" We got to spend a few seasons with Doggett and he has a nice enough repertoire to get a handle on his character.

Annabeth Gish, who plays Monica Reyes, had even less time to develop her character. You could feel that in her episodes where she sometimes came off a New Age Flower Girl with a gun and other times felt like something akin to Law and Order: SVU's Detective Olivia Benson. Oh, and she was half-Mexican too. With another season or two the writers could have could have sharpened her character into the "Mulder-lite" she was supposed to represent. She brought this wonderful sincerity and energy to the duo. If Mulder was smug, Scully was stubborn, and Dogget gruff, then Reyes was just wonder. She was everyone's inner fan, that little voice that kept saying, "Isn't this stuff cool!?" One-time X-Files Agent Leyla Harrison is supposed to be our onscreen X-Files fanatic (And she does this wonderfully), but Reyes represents that curiosity the convinced so many people back in 1993 to stay in on a Friday night.

Doggett and Reyes could have carried the show beyond the ninth season. If the FBI really did have a X-Files unit then you would most likely see something like Doggett and Reyes. Again, I want Mulder and Scully to come to my wedding, but the team up is a bit implausible. Scully is the young and bright doctor that gave up medicine to become a talented FBI agent. Oh, and she is hot! Mulder is another young agent who could have caught the Green River Killer if allowed, but gave up that gift to become an encyclopedia of paranormal knowledge. Oh, and he is hot too!

Doggett and Reyes were also supposed to share a muted romance. I admit it would be a bit lazy to have these two agents fall in love as well (Is there something about those basement offices that make people fall in love? The gypsum board? The decaying celluloid of Mulder's dirty movies?), but it would have been nice to see. They could have approached it from a different angle then the Scully and Mulder romance. If Doggett and Reyes knew that their relationship would get them in the same situation as Mulder and Scully, then they could have taken it slow and nuanced.

It has been about six years since The X-Files left the air. This is all water under the bridge, but in light of the movie coming out tomorrow, you cannot help to ask...What if we were still tuning in?

Peace!