Finally! I knew years of reading comic books would vindicate me one day.

News reports are trickling in that rescuers have found a single survivor of the Yemeni crash yesterday which claimed the lives of 153 people. The single survivor? A five year old boy who miraculously survived the wreck.

(Child to receive this in the mail shortly, turn into Bruce Willis)

Now, earlier this month that fourteen year old German kid got hit by a meteorite and survived. Now we've got kids surviving horrible plane crashes? Ladies and gentlemen, it's begun. Humanity has begun manifesting the latent superpowers embedded deep within our genes. Hopefully Kid Meteorite and Boy Invincible are only the first to spontaneously genetically change from Homo sapien to Homo superior, with the rest of us to follow shortly.

I for one welcome our awesome superpowers.

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My Netflix queue is a strange monster. Low brow 80's comedies mix with childhood favorite cartoons, action blockbusters and foreign weepies. But the top of my queue, my current rental, has been occupied for the last three weeks.

Almost a month ago, on an impulse, I added 'The Fountain'. Movie geeks will know it as Aronofsky's most high profile 'flop', a movie that only made half of what it cost and was either adored or demonized by the movie going public. It was recommended to me by Netflix, and happened to be on Blu-Ray (a winning combination), so I thought I might as well give it a shot. That was a month ago. The movie arrived a little over three weeks ago, and has sat on my desk, staring up at me, defying me to watch it. Going into it, I'll admit, I felt threatened. 'The Fountain' had a lot of really ugly words thrown at it: long, boring, inaccessable. When my good friend Spencer Twittered about 'The Fountain' a little over a week ago, I knew it was fortuitous. I'm not one to argue with cosmic signs, but I knew that I'd have to be in a 'mood' to watch the movie.

Luckily, I was in that mood tonight. Let's talk a little about 'The Fountain'.

One thing to understand is, the critics were definitely right in one regard: this movie is not very accessible. It's easy to see why; the movie is ambitious in both scope and narrative, and at no point takes the 'easy way' with the viewer. Much like Nolan's 'Memento', the movie plays with chronology in a very interesting way. The movie itself takes place in three time periods: during the Spanish Inquisition and exploration of the New World, during the present day, and some time in the future. Because of this, scenes from different timelines blur together, overlap and replay, each melting into one another. Thankfully, this is to the film's credit; any time a scene repeats itself, it's worth noting what the scene was about and what it might mean in the context of what has lead up to it. All in all, maybe four or five total scenes are repeated in the movie, but each time they are, the context changes. What seems straightforward at the beginning of the movie is more complex by the end. The screenplay feels more like moving poetry than motion picture.

If I sound overly enthusiastic about this movie, it's because I am. I entered with skewed expectations, and instead was given a gift for both the senses (the movie is absolutely beautiful) and the mind. In this way, the other criticisms leveled at the movie are unfair. Long? The movie clocks in at around an hour and a half. Boring? Not at all. Actually, I take that back. If you're unfamiliar with symbolism and metaphor, or are having a hard time following the plot, I'm sure the movie is boring. It's probably bloated, and nonsensical, and you probably didn't like it. But, at the risk of sounding smug, the movie probably wasn't made for you. The movie is a reflection on what it means to be human and our role in the universe, and if that seems like too loft a subject for you, then I apologize. You rented the wrong movie.



The rest of this will have spoilers, so if you want to see this movie and haven't, you should consider not reading.

The argument that the plot is convoluted is wrong. The plot is not convoluted; rather, it demands you pay close attention and think about what you're seeing. Let's break it down a little.

The reality of the movie is this -- the film takes place in the modern day. The scenes with Jackman and Weisz in the present are what's 'actually happening'. When we cut back to the Conquistador, we're seeing excerpts from the book being written by Izzy (Weisz's character). How this ties in to the rest of the movie is important. Izzy's book is about her coming to terms with her own mortality and her relationship with Tommy in the face of her death. When she dies, the final chapter of the book is unwritten, as she wants Tommy to write it. If we accept this, than one interpretation (and the one I subscribe to) is that all the future space-y stuff is Tommy's last chapter of Izzy's book. It's about the same thing (coming to terms with death), but told in a way that Tommy understands. Whereas Izzy is about history and antiquity, Tommy is about science and progress. Her conquest to understand life and death takes place in a romanticized history; his takes place in the perfected science fiction future.


If this sounds confusing, it is. Aronofsky has never definatively given an answer as to what the movie means, leaving a lot up to the viewer. On the most basic level, the movie is beautiful and emotionally moving. Upon analysis, it is equally beautiful and moving, but also elegant in both its grandeurs and simplicities. It's hard to sum up how I feel about the movie, beyond that I really liked it. The film itself is wonderful, obviously, and sports an equally wonderful and moving score by Clint Mansell.

I encourage you to watch the movie, or watch it again. The movie definitely does not deserve the trashing it received in critical circles, and should be considered one of the best movies of Aronofsky's output.

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Hey, it's this commercial! I haven't seen it in forever. It felt right to post, since it's getting hot outside.

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Who am I to argue in the face of an INTERNET SENSATION!

Fresh off of KSL.com's top news:



The news goes on to say that they specifically don't want this to become an internet sensation.

You know what to do, internet. Raise that bar!

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So my weekend was consumed with a cousin's wedding. I took fake mustaches as a way of repping The Mustache Emporium, and snapped a few pictures of people at the wedding wearing mustaches. Anyway, the camera got turned on me during Cocktail Hour, and I couldn't help but share. The power of my handsomeness compelled me.

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- Friiiiiiiiday... actually, today's really been more of a Monday Friday rather than a Friday Friday. Riddle me THAT, Batman.

- Doesn't look like I'm going to have much of a weekend. I just received word from Central Command that the (final) wedding (this month) is a seven hour block on Saturday, up at Snowbird. So, I'll enjoy my Friday night, 'cause my Saturday day and night is gone as well, which is a shame because...

- The Mustache Emporium is progressing nicely. The site design is underway and I'm probably 90% ready to launch. I just need to get cards made up, and get my tax information in order to start selling. I'll keep you posted, because it's gonna be freakin' awesome.

- Richard and Kaiti leave for Arizona tomorrow, fooooorrrreeeeevvvveeeerrr... I am sad about this. I reckon it's a good thing digital technology has progressed to where state and national boundaries are largely irrelevant. See you guys on the internet!

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I received a distressing Facebook message over the weekend.

You are cordially invited to the Olympus High School Class of 2004 Five Year Reunion.

Date: Saturday, (Date Removed) 2009 2:00p.m.- 7:00 p.m.

Place: The Spruces at Big Cottonwood Canyon

Directions: Take Wasatch Blvd. all the way down to 6200 S. then hit a left at Big Cottonwood Canyon Road. Go about nine miles down Big Cottonwood Canyon Road (Highway 190) until you hit the Spruces campground site (on the right side of the road).

There is a five dollar admission fee for every graduate and their party. This party is also BYOM (Bring Your Own Meat). Grills will be provided.

Parking is limited so we suggest that you carpool. Please obey al traffic rules in the canyon.

Come and enjoy a great party out in the mountains with softball, volleyball, music, and a chance to reconnect with all of your old high school friends!

Hope to see you there!!!!!

There isn't an unsatisfied grunt noise loud enough to contain my glee. It's apparently been five years since High School. To be honest, it doesn't really feel like it. I know that as you get older, it doesn't seem like time has passed, but seriously. Five years? That means that it's been five years since I started college, that Dad's been dead for five years, and that I'm an honest-to-goodness adult at this point. All of which is distressing.

Anyway, that's all irrelevant. Here are the facts.

• There is a typo, and five exclamation points in that invite. Either it's a hoax by someone looking to lure me up the canyon and murder me, or nobody's learned a dang thing since High School.

• This thing's up the canyon. Look, I get we're all adorable outdoorsy bohemians, but that's gonna be prime allergy season and I'll be surrounded by trees. The fact that we couldn't spring for an auditorium or, heck, the school gymnasium is concerning.
  

• There's no meal, and what looks like no organized events beyond sports and listening to some music. Music I'm OK with. Sports, meh. But it's a 'bring and cook your own food' event, and I have to pay them $5 to do it. Uhh, OK.

• I can think of five, MAYBE ten people I graduated with that I wouldn't mind seeing again. Of those, I can think of three or four that I've talked to since High School. That's not really strong motivation for me to go. On the other hand...

• I want to see the carnage that is the lives of others. I'm inherently a curious person, and I'll admit to having a perverse fascination with who got married, knocked up and lost their hopes and dreams in the last five years.

In terms of the High School reunion thing, I'm a prime candidate for going and looking like a jerk. I graduated from a prestigious college with good grades, I did some impressive stuff while I was there, and now I work for a multi-million dollar marketing company managing projects and doing graphic design. I got rid of my glasses, switched to a better haircut and drive a much cooler car. I mean, I'm the quintessential success story, considering I used to spend my lunches in the History classroom being socially maladjusted.

And yet, I don't really want to go. My only motivation for going would be to gloat about how awesome I am and to hit on some girls; then again, I can only think of two or three girls that I graduated with that I was genuinely interested in, and I'd guarantee at least two are married.

Do I blow off this wonderful celebration of repressed emotion and schaudenfreud, or do I go and pretend to enjoy hanging out in the woods with a bunch of kids (adults now) who were jerks to me in High School? I'm leaning towards skipping it in favor of the ten year, assuming I have a motorcycle, attracive girlfriend and a sweet mustache five years from now.

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'A Jagged Gorgeous Winter' is one of my favorite songs in Rock Band 2. I love music videos. The original video for 'Jagged' was decent, but it wasn't awesome.

This, this is an awesome music video. Let's watch.

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I've got serious commitment issues. When I find something I like, I don't just like it, I fall passionately, madly in love with it. My relationships are torrid, however, as sometimes I'll snap back out of it and forget all about the object of my desires. My relationship with 'Heroes', for instance, was fleeting. Tai chi didn't last, but argyle socks did. One of my most long-lasting commitments? My love affair with the folks at...


See, every day, for the last six months, I've been eating Stretch Island Co. fruit leather.

(Pictured: Little fruity lightning bolts from Heaven.)

I'm sure you're thinking, Fruit leather? What is this, sixth grade? Let me tell you what it is. It's a taste explosion. It's pressed fruit riding a motorcycle in my mouth and doing wheelies on my tongue. It's nectar from Heaven, food of Gods, and fruit without all that 'going bad' stuff.

According to legend, Stretch Island Fruit Co. started in the 70's when flavor ninjas named Ron and Mary started making this stuff in their laundry room. Now they're all expanded into a big company, but they're stuff is still completely awesome. How awesome?


But just how awesome is freakin' awesome? So awesome I eat one, if not two of these bad boys a day. I stick 'em in my lunch and have them as afternoon rewards for being so awesome. How do they taste? Incredible. Most fruit snacks or fruit leather have an artificial, overly sugary taste. These taste like some fruit that got sweetened a little and made into thin bar form.

Some people complain about the texture. These people are insane. If you store these bad boys right (i.e. not in extreme temperatures), they're soft but firm, and oh are they moist. They're pretty fantastic. They're easily better than anything else out there.

(Pictured: Some fruit-hawking amateurs who really need to step up their A-game.)

But Austin, you're now saying at your computer screen, these aren't for me. They're probably like $100 a piece or something because they sound fantastic.

You would be wrong, I would say, as I kick in your door and throw fruit leather at you. These puppies are cheap! Like, under $1 cheap! And they're half a serving of fruit! Why, if you skipped a single can of soda, you could buy like four of these babies and ride the flavor train to Deliciousland.

But don't believe me (even though I'm completely right). Go to your grocery store and buy some of them. They're by either the health food, or the fresh fruits. They come in like a million flavors, and all of them are totally delicious. I like the Pina Colada because it's got this coconut thing going on that is just mind-blowing.

Go buy these. Now. And drop some off at my house, because really, it's the least you could do.

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"If people bring so much courage to this world the world has to kill them to break them, so of course it kills them. The world breaks every one and afterward many are strong at the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry."

- Ernest Hemingway
From A Farewell To Arms

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Anybody want to buy a piece of history?

So I woke up this morning and thought I'd start going through the stuff around the house that we might need to get rid of when we move. The first thing on the list? The 1955 Zenith Flash-Matic TV. This TV's pretty crazy. It was the first television with a wireless remote control, and cost about $15 when it first came out. Ours was found under a blanket in a crazy old cat lady's garage; it's never been used and still has the original remote control, batteries and display tags. It's also in fantastic condition and has only ever been used to set decorative things on.



I was going to put it on KSL, but I realized I would have no idea how to do that. This thing is a piece of history, and is museum quality. I don't know what to price it. I've sent an e-mail to Zenith asking about it, but I haven't heard back.

If you have deep pockets, internet, and want to own a piece of TV history, let me know.

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- Strangely, looking back at my past Assorted Thoughts, the last time I wrote an Assorted Thoughts I talked about my ukulele. In keeping with tradition...

- NPR says the ukulele is back with a vengeance. The premise of the article is that, much like the Great Depression, broke kids are picking up ukuleles like crazy and strumming away their trouble. For the record, I've been reppin' the ukulele for years, so I'm practically original gangster in terms of tiny instruments.

- All Hell is still broken loose in Iran. I'm wearing green today in support of anti-Ahmadinejad protestors, even thought I'm a continent away and can't really do anything. Keep up the good fight, Iran.

- I need a haircut.

- While typing that previous sentence, I reached up and noticed the side of my head was bleeding. Problem under control, but still...

- Mid-way through season one of 'Bones' at this point. The show's shaping up better than the first few episodes allow.

- Found my supply of Little Golden Books again. I really want to do something in the style of those old Little Golden Books (or, more recently, the end credits of certain Pixar movies, i.e. Ratatouille, Bolt).

- I genuinely wish I had something more interesting to say this Monday morning. Sigh.

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In the most awesome news story ever, a little German kid was hit by a meteorite.

No, no, the kid's fine. It just hit him in the hand and gave him an awesome scar.

(Not quite. Yet. MUA HA HA HA HA!)

Anyway, a pea-sized meteorite apparently breached the atmosphere, gave this kid an awesome scar, and then buried itself in the ground. The kid's OK; rumors of his superpowers granted from a benevolent martian race have yet to be confirmed.

Boy Hit By Meteorite [Space.com]

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The beautiful, glorious idiots (said lovingly, of course) over at Fun Time Internet have a competition where every year they venture to their local Red Lobster and see if they can still get service after they harass the wait staff.

This year they decided to end it, and vowed to either go out with a bang, or be banned from Red Lobster forever.

What they came up with is 'The Curse of Cheddar Bay', and it's amazing. Live performance art can either be irritating or amazing, and this is nothing short of amazing.

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I am an awful human being.

But Austin, you've always been kind of a bad person! Why this specifically?

Well, when I opened my Hotmail to check for new messages, a banner ad for animal cruelty (complete with a picture of a goofy looking dog, as seen to the right) greeted me.

Call me crazy, but that's a hilarious picture of a dog.

I mean, come on, he's got the googly-eyes and everything! That dog's hilarious looking! It gets funnier the longer you look at it.

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So celebrity gossip rag readers might be familiar with the story of UCLA inviting undergraduate James Franco (yes, that one) to be their commencement speaker this year. For those of you who aren't, James Franco attended UCLA this year as an undergraduate, which is funny, because when he was a kid, there was track one (for smart kids), and track two (for normal people), and track three (for dumb kids). He was on track three, so it's surprising that he ended up in college. But I digress. So since he was so high-profile as a student, UCLA thought other students might want to hear his opinions on life and stuff.

(Master 'scholar' and lovable actor James Franco)

Anyway, there was a whole big 'thing' about Franco being the commencement speaker, so like a polite guy that he is, Franco cited 'scheduling' to gracefully drop out of commencement. This threw UCLA into a fit -- who will they find to replace James Franco?! They had a limited amount of time, but surely they could find SOME well-educated person to fill his place!

Well, they found someone, all right.

Linkin Park guitarist Brad Delson. Yeah, this guy.

(Master... uh... Brad Delson)

Yeah, the guitarist from Linkin Park is going to give the commencement address now. Apparently Franco was too smart or scholarly or something, so UCLA graduate Brad Delson stepped up to do a wanky guitar solo while rapping words of wisdom.

In this spirit, I've collected some jewels of wisdom from Linkin Park songs that Delson helped to write. Maybe he can give some of these!

Words of Wisdom from Linkin Park:

• It starts with one thing.
  
• It doesn't even matter how hard you try.
• Everyone has a face they try to hide.
• Something in here's not right today.
• Shut up when I'm talking to you.
• I'm crawling in my skin.
• This wounds -- they will not heal.
  
• In the end, it doesn't even matter.

Godspeed you, UCLA graduates! Onward to a better tomorrow!

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And now for your strange conspiracy theory news. Apparently David Carradine's family has an idea as to why the Kung Fu legend died last week: ninjas!

The prevailing theory is that since Carradine was renowned for his love of 'exposing secret societies', rogue ninja warriors from one of these secret societies snuck into his room, murdered him and made it look like some sort of kinky sex game.

You know me, who am I to turn down a good theory? Besides, if Jack Rabbit (whom long-time readers might recognize as the internet truth machine) believes it...

"'WHACK'Y KUNG FU" [New York Post]

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I can't believe it's Monday again. Well, I guess I can believe it. It seems the time stream keeps finding ways to speed through my weekends in order to arrive back at the work week. I can't complain, I love work, but it still feels like I never get a weekend.

I think I blame obligations. Nothing I hate more than having to go to a wedding or something on a weekend; I only get so much time off of work, and I don't want to spend it doing anything other than playing guitar in my underwear, dangit!

I did go to Scott's party on Saturday, as well as a dinner. I can't complain about the party, because it's a party, and those are acceptable uses of weekends. But now this upcoming weekend I have a wedding Saturday, and then another wedding on one of the remaining two Saturdays this month. Pro Tip: If you're getting married, get married during the work week, so everyone can still spend their Saturdays doing awesome stuff.

On Friday I had watched 'Ghost Adventures' and 'Whale Wars' with Richard and Kaiti; well, that's a lie. They watched 'Ghost Adventures', and I played Sims 3. I blame them for handing me the laptop, however. It made me want to run out and buy it, but that's something that would likely have to wait until the next paycheck. That whole run-in with the dentist last month left my bank account as sore as my gums, so prudence was the name of the game on this paycheck. One good thing that came out of Friday was the idea that Richard, Kaiti and I would go mess with the 'Whale Wars' people by buying bionic dolphin submarines and sabotaging their boat. I have no problem with animal rights and equality, but some of those people on 'Whale Wars' are a little nuts. It'd be awesome using a robot dolphin to mess with them, because really, it'd freak them out to see the ocean STRIKING BACK!



An integral part of this plan was us getting leather jackets with a dolphin on the back. The dolphin would have a bandanna, and some stubble, and a hook hand, and look a lot like Snake Plissken if he were an aquatic mammal. I said I'd draw that, but I haven't had time; look for me getting off my duff and actually draw that to put on a tee-shirt.

Saturday, as I said, was Scott's party. That was fun; it's always nice to spend time with friends, even if you're forced to see them a few times a day. We did even get to watch some terrible movies!

Speaking of terrible movies and terrible lines, remember the awful line from the first X-Men movie, where Storm says, "You know what happens to a toad when it's struck by lightning? The same thing that happens to everything else." Turns out his holiness Sir Whedon wrote that line. I knew the big guy was involved in writing X1, but I had no idea he was responsible for that terrible, terrible line. He says that Halle Berry delivered it wrong, and that it was supposed to be more of a Firefly-esque 'I didn't really have an answer for that metaphorical question, so here's a stupid, childish response' kind of line. I don't know, still feels like a weak line to me.

So that was Saturday. I ended up watching 'The Onion Movie' before falling asleep, which was really funny as well. They do good work over at The Onion. It's funny, re-reading their archives, how many of their ironic stories have panned out and turned into real stories. I credit the bizarre nature of the universe.

Yesterday was pretty OK. While at dinner at my Grandma's house, I suffered a grievous toe injury resulting in the loss of the top half of the toenail of my big toe, left foot. It's really gross. I have a thing against nail trauma anyway, so I get all queasy-like just looking at it. Beyond that, the only other notable thing was that I saw 'The Hangover', which was funny, but could have been funnier. There were some definite funny parts, but then there was a lot of stuff that just felt kinda 'Meh'. The internet seems to think it was funnier than I did; maybe I was just toe drama'd out.

After that, I came home, laid in bed, watched 'Bones' and eventually fell asleep. 'Bones' (as seen to the immediate right) is my most recent 'Austin Watches An Episode Of A TV Show Before Bed' show, following in the recent tradition of 'Supernatural', 'The OC', 'Profiler', 'Twin Peaks' and 'X-Files'. Now, I'd only seen assorted episodes over the last couple years. I started at the beginning, and I'm four or five episodes in, and I can't seem to get a hang of this show. The main character, Bones (played by Emily Deschanel, big sister to Zooey), is pretty abrasive and comes off as unlikeable compared to David Boreanaz's Booth. Maybe it's supposed to be that way, and maybe that changes over the series, but I'm having a hard time understanding why she's the main character instead of Booth when she's not nearly as interesting. The first few episodes of any series are always uneven, though, so I'll give them time to shape up. I guess I have to; I already have the next two seasons waiting to be watched (thanks Amazon Gold Box!)

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So last night, at Scott's birthday party (Happy Birthday, Scott!), we ended up discussing science documentaries and the nerds that watch them. I mentioned my love for lectures by Dr. Richard Dawkins, and both Scott and Amanda agreed that they were both fans of Dawkins as well.

(Dr. Richard Dawkins, Ace Scientist)

So I figured, I'll put up Dawkin's '91 lecture series.

Every December, the Royal Institution of Great Britain hosts the 'Christmas Lecture Series'. The purpose of these lectures is to bring some of the greatest scientists in the world into the homes of people across England (and even around the world). Each year a presenter prepares a series of lectures based on a favorite topic of theirs; past lectures have ranged from robotics to number codes and from things like space to electricity. Being invited to give the Christmas Lecture is a great honor, and has included some really big names in science, like Michael Faraday and John Tyndall.

In 1991, Dr. Richard Dawkins presented a series of lectures which he dubbed 'Growing Up In The Universe'. More an overall survey of the universe and the marvelous intricacy of nature, 'Growing Up In The Universe' touches on a lot of ideas presented in his books and helps to give an amazing introduction into just how wonderful and intricate the world around us is.

Below is the first of the five lectures comprising Dawkins' 1991 engagement, subtitled 'Waking Up In The Universe'. Watch it; heck, if you don't want to watch, just listen to it. Marvel at the world. And then watch the other four.



Part II: Designed And Designoid Objects

Part III: Climbing Mount Improbable

Part IV: The Ultraviolet Garden

Part V: The Genesis of Purpose

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Southwest Airlines, in an attempt to pull ahead in the 'Worst Airline Ever' race, has decided on a new money-making strategy.

For only $75, yes, $75 U.S. dollars, you can put my life at risk AND be a total douchebag by carrying your pet into the cabin of the airplane for the flight!

Forget about, you know, people with allergies, or who are afraid of animals! In the name of money, glorious money, let's have animals ride in the cabin of the airplane!

(Southwest's tradition of excellence)

Look, here's the thing. Don't waste your time with the stupid 'Ooh, airplane filtration means you won't have to breathe it in' argument. If I can still smell the overly strong perfume of the lady three rows up, there's still going to be pet dander in my face. Being around a single animal for thirty minutes will make me not be able to breathe out my nose. Being around two pets for the same amount of time will make my eyes swell up. Three, and I'll have breathing problems, period.

So how many pets will Southwest allow on the flight at once? Oh, good, only FIVE. Well, that's some consolation, knowing that there's only two more dogs necessary than could hospitalize me.

You know, let's even ignore that. Did NOBODY see 'Snakes On A Plane'? I for one can't wait for an anxious, frightened animal to get out of its cage and maul somebody at 30,000 feet. Oh, I know, let's sedate the animals instead! Nothing shows your love and respect for your pet like pumping them full of unnecessary drugs so you can be that douchebag who took their chihuahua to Disneyland with them.

Southwest sucks. I mean, I hate Southwest anyway, but this is just allergenic icing on an uncomfortable cake. I will never fly Southwest again due to their obvious disregard people. People like their customers.

And if you want to bring your pets onto the plane, and think that I'm being overly sensitive -- I'm going to sit next to you on the flight and rub sandpaper in your eyes. Quit being a baby, it's not that bad! It's not harming anybody else!

[Edit: Richard says other airlines do this now too... Oh dear, I am doing to die. ]

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Bless our wonderful world for allowing me to read this while eating a breakfast consisting of, gasp, Cap'n Crunch.

So at the end of last month, a U.S. District Court threw out a complaint filed by a very angry woman. This woman, it turns out, was under the assumption that when she bought Cap'n Crunch, she was buying her children a healthy breakfast, rife with the delicious 'crunch berry'.

Ignoring the delicious (hah) hilarity of believing in something called a 'crunch berry', the plaintiff was "disturbed" to discover that crunchberries aren't actually berries, but are instead colorful balls of cereal!

"Reasonable Consumer Would Know 'Crunchberries' Are Not Real, Judge Rules" [Lowering the Bar]

Once again, this feels like a lucrative market I should be getting in on. Perhaps I can say that Smacks are responsible for my violent bouts of aggression. Or that never once, in all my years, have Pops made a popping noise in my mouth. Next you'll be telling me that Fruity Pebbles isn't a prehistoric treat of brightly colored rocks which make my milk taste delicious.

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So Obama gives an eloquent speech overseas. But what do the good people of Utah think?

Well, I can't really tell, between all the insults, assertions that Obama is a terrorist and hate for all Muslims. The one user with the word Muslim in their name is marked as a 'troll', despite the fact that she's clearly expressing a non-offensive opinion. She's then told that she'd better keep her burka on or she's going to get stoned to death.

Way to go, Utah! Always one for religious and racial tolerance!

Here's what I find funny about Utah. It's a population heavily dominated by LDS people. The LDS church preaches love, tolerance, respect and understanding. It's followers then decide that anything left of Rush Limbaugh and darker than milk is spooooooky scary! It's bizarre and inexplicable how the discussion linked to above starts with government policy and quickly evolves into quoting scripture to back up outdated, offensive and racist beliefs.

That's one of the biggest problem with Utah. Despite the culture supposedly being heavy on 'love everyone, trust everyone, respect everyone', it's really not, when it comes down to it. Let me share with you some actual, inexplicable quotes from people I know. I couldn't even make these up; these are things I've heard while talking on the phone, puttering through the neighborhood on my scooter and, unfortunately, over the dinner table.

"You have an Obama sign? I thought you were smarter than that."

"Obama's going to make us Muslims and if we don't, they'll come to our houses and kill us."

"I don't want to pray to some Muslim devil god."

"I just don't trust Muslims."

"It's not racist to say you can't trust Muslims. It's a fact."

Yeah, definite love and understanding going on there. Let's make a quick list, Utah:

• Muslims did not 'do 9/11', as I've heard friends and neighbors say. Terrorists did. Just like you personally ddn't rape and kill civilians in Iraq. You can't associate fringe elements of religion with the religion as a whole; Mormons insist that LDS and FLDS are very different things, so what's so hard to understand that Muslims and Muslim extremists are different? So why does Muslim = Terrorist when a tiny fraction of all Muslims in the entire world are so-called 'terrorists'. Every time someone says 'If you're friends with Muslims, you must have forgotten 9/11!', I want to punch them in the throat.

• Saying that we need world peace does not make you a 'terrorist sympathizer', or a 'terrorist appeaser', and it certainly doesn't make you a terrorist. I seem to remember somebody saying something about how everyone should love one another and get along... who was that guy again? By this logic, Jesus was a terrorist sympathizer. By nature of his teachings, Jesus said everyone is equal and we should treat everyone equally, right?
  

• The Muslim world is not 'the bad guys'. I can't even begin to address how narrow minded and stupid this is. There are at least three people who commented on that KSL story that said Obama was just trying to "score brownie points with the bad guys". Bad guys? What is this, Bonanza? We live in a complex, interconnected world. The very notion of 'bad guys' and 'good guys' is outdated and flawed. Everyone's a bad guy to someone else; ask anybody's ex-girlfriend. I like to think we're smart enough to see that the idea of people being 'bad' while we're 'good' is a little too naive to be true.
  

• Direct quote from that KSL argument: "Why is it our job to reach out to these people {Muslims}. If I remember right the Jihad was waged on us, not on them". Remember that part of the Bible that says 'Turn the other cheek'? Forgetting the fact that a small group of people have declared war on American culture, what part of 'An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind' is so difficult? So a small group of people hurt America. It's awful, no doubt. Does that mean we should hurt every person who believes their same religion? Sounds a lot like the religious persecution that the Mormons came to Utah to avoid, right?
  

• Above all else, religion teaches tolerance and peace. When we say that we're fighting a 'holy war', that is in direct conflict with absolutely everything Jesus Christ ever said. Ever. When you make broad statements about 'bad guys' and that they need to be 'taken care of', that's against everything Jesus taught. Take an honest look at what Jesus would actually do compared to what you 'think' he would do. Jesus wanted peace, not war. Jesus wanted forgiveness and tolerance, not 'taking care' of 'bad people'. If Jesus were here, he would be disgusted by the people who commit horrible acts under his name.

• This is unrelated, but not really. Let's talk for a second about the current trend of calling people 'sheep'. So someone disagrees with your politics? They must be a 'sheep', right! The delicious irony is, both Rush Limbaugh and Bill O'Reilly popularized the notion of calling political opponents 'sheep' and encouraged others to do it. So, if you agree and start to call people 'sheep', aren't you being a 'sheep' yourself for blindingly following the advice of a TV/radio personality? Calling someone a sheep is the stupidest insult going around right now; say it and you instantly lose a few brain cells.
  

Utah is home to some of the most ill-informed and yet strangely opinionated people on the planet. Everyone's so afraid of what they don't know that they'd rather discriminate than learn.

Maybe it's a little hard, but perhaps Utahns should take the advice that I was given repeatedly over the last eight years: America, love it or leave it. If you disagree with the President, get out.

Well, the same applies. This is the new America, love it or leave it. If you don't, feel free to find somewhere else to live where you enjoy the same liberties you do here. Obama won the election, so there are clearly more people who agree with him than people who agree with you. Thank heavens.

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Dangit, 2009, how many of my celebrity icons are you going to kill this year?!

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When some people play Rock Band, they just sorta stand there and don't really move. I make it a personal mission, however, to come up with sometimes elaborate dance maneuvers on the fly for whatever song I'm singing.

Sometimes I feel like a weirdo. And sometimes I'm strangely vindicated.

Today I'm vindicated by this guy. He has awesome dance moves. I'd let him come to a Rock Band party at my house.

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Alright, folks, some of you might remember my earlier post bemoaning the death of the incomparable CLLCT. I received an e-mail this morning with a link; it turns out Russ (visit his LiveJournal), who you might know as Tinyfolk, has started up a forum for us shell-shocked CLLCT members to reconnect! Members are slowly trickling in as word spreads, so if you know any Family Members who haven't found the forum yet, be sure to pass the information on.

The forum itself is currently a CLLCT-lite version, no artist pages or hosting, but with a message board with areas to post new creations. The forums are definitely a work in progress, but I have no doubt that with all the collective brainpower of the Family, we can work to get it back to its rightful glory.

Here's the link to the new CLLCT:

CLLCT

Register, spread the word to other Family Members, and let's get back to business.

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Let's take a moment out of our day to appreciate just how awesome Bill Murray is.



Everybody loves Bill Murray. There's no reason not to. He's been in some of our favorite movies of all time and has been a quintessential American actor for decades. There have been some ugly accusations from his ex-wife during his divorce, but nothing that's ever been substantiated in any meaningful way. The accusations that Bill Murray might be a little violent, however, are seemingly true, as evidenced in the following (AWESOME) news story.

During a press junket for 'Terminator: Salvation', kind-of-a-dick director/producer McG relayed a story in which he caused a heated discussion on a film set, resulting in McG being headbutted, right in the face, by Mr. Bill Murray. Apparently the headbutt was wicked vicious, and would have shattered McG's nose had it been an inch lower.

This, of course, isn't Bill's first problem on a McG set. The reason he didn't get rehired as Bosley in 'Charlie's Angels 2: Full Throttle'? He told Lucy Liu she sucked at acting, which is kind of awesome, considering those movies were awful.

This only adds to the legend of how awesome Bill Murray is, however. Let's review a short list of things Bill Murray has done recently that make him awesome:

• Live in New York? Odds are Bill Murray will come to your party. Did you invite him? No, but he was walking by, in a melancholic Bill Murray mood, and decided to crash your party. This apparently happens a lot to a lot of different people.

• You're walking home through the park late at night, when someone sneaks up behind you and covers your eyes, asking you to guess who it is. When you give up and turn around, surprise, it's Bill Murray, who proclaims, 'Nobody's ever going to believe you,' and runs off into the night. This apparently happens a lot too, in various places.

• Are you in a hotel bar late at night drinking when someone sits down, orders a whiskey and begins chatting up attractive women 'Lost In Translation'-style? Oh, hey, that's Bill too. (Sorry, lost the link for this one)
  

I'll be the first to say it: Bill Murray is quickly becoming the hipster Santa Claus. He appears miraculously, does something awesome, and then leaves as mysteriously as he came. There are celebrities who use their fame to be jerks, and those who don't use it at all. Then there's those people who use their fame to screw with you. That's Bill Murray, and he's awesome. Maybe this year I'll send him an invitation to my birthday party along with a note saying I'll buy him a six-pack and he can sleep on my couch.

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Ohh man, this is going to be face-meltingly awesome.

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I think I solved the mystery of the missing French flight.

An airliner, with full crew and passengers on-board a flight over the Atlantic, hits mysterious turbulence while experiencing electrical trouble that shouldn't harm an airplane before mysteriously vanishing from all contact?

Am I a bad person that this is the first thing I thought of, and the most likely possibility? Read that link to discover how this is like the plot of a 'Twilight Zone' episode from decades ago.



You might as well go ahead and watch the episode here; it's a pretty awesome episode.

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I've got a problem.

I'm a man of routine. My day is basically the same from 11 PM - 8 AM every day.

11:00 PM - Get in bed. Watch TV.
11:45 PM - TV off.
11:50 PM - Sleepy time.
7:04 AM - Wake up.
7:05 AM - Shower.
7:11 AM - Out of shower.
7:20 AM - Enjoy a good sit.
7:30 AM - Breakfast.
8:05 AM - Get ready for work.
8:15 AM - Leave for work.

Every day, same routine. I like it. I like the familiarity of it, and I like being able to get into a good groove. The problem is, my groove's off.

Turns out the 11:50 PM Sleepy Time isn't working quite the way I had hoped. It used to, but for the past few days, it's been more like:

11:50 PM - Close my eyes, try to sleep, think about how I can't go to sleep for the next hour and a half, then fall asleep while thinking I can't sleep, dream about being awake and laying in bed and unable to sleep.
1:30 AM - Wake up and have to check the clock. Did I sleep? I can't really tell.
1:50 AM - Try to go back to sleep. Repeat 11:50 PM again.
7:00 AM - Drag self out of bed, stagger through day with unending sense of ennui.

I don't know what's been going on, but it's driving me absolutely nuts. The feeling that you're not sleeping, even if you are, is bad enough, but then it keeps happening, and I feel like every night I'm spending seven hours in pitch black thinking to myself. It's not relaxing; it's down right awful, and I wake up dazed and loopy.

My new game plan for tonight is to be in bed by 10 PM, TV off before 11 PM. Maybe I can beat myself to the punch and trick my system into knocking out earlier. I can only hope.

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