Q: How many Bush Administration officials does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
A: None. There is nothing wrong with the light bulb; its conditions are improving every day. Any reports of its lack of incandescence are a delusional spin from the liberal media. That light bulb has served honorably, and anything you say undermines the lighting effect. Why do you hate freedom?
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Monday, June 25, 2007
Curse the rules!
This whole "no disks from home in the library computers" thing is really getting on my nerves. I mean seriously kids. How am I supposed to put the posts I've written on my laptop onto my blog when I can't use my flash drive? Stupid neighbors putting a password on their wireless network so I can't borrow it anymore. *sadface*
Actual posts when I've figured out how to successfully flout regulations. 'til then, peace out.
Actual posts when I've figured out how to successfully flout regulations. 'til then, peace out.
pretending to be a movie critic
...for lack of anything better to do.
Dad and I rented and watched three movies this evening, because we lead exciting lives like that. The first was American Dreamz, which had its amusing moments, I suppose. The thing I noticed though, and I guess this is pretty true of political satire in general, is how very quickly it can become dated. I mean, this movie isn't particularly old (it came out what, last year?), but a lot of it didn't seem all that fresh or funny, because it's all been so very done at this point. Wow, the president's a halfwit, ha ha. Never seen that one before. I really wish I'd seen this film in the theater when it first came around, because I feel like I might've appreciated it a lot more then. (Or maybe not; maybe it wasn't really that funny to begin with, and it's just easier to make excuses about it now. Who knows?)
The second one was Invincible, about the average-Joe bartender guy who goes to play for the Philadelphia Eagles. It was your pretty basic underdog sports flick, except that the end seemed rather sudden; it was happy, yes, but there was no miraculous championship run, ending in one amazing play by the rookie to win it all. It seemed a little darker and somewhat more subtle than your average Disney movie as well; I can't decide if I liked it more or less for that. If you want an all-out, feel-good football flick, Remember the Titans is probably a better bet. Thumbs up on the soundtrack though; you really can't miss with Ted Nugent and Bachman-Turner Overdrive, among others.
And to finish out the night, we watched The Good Shepherd, the one about the CIA, starring Matt Damon and enough other big names that if I'd had internet access, I could've actually kept myself interested for the full 2:47 playing six degrees on IMDB. As it was, I had to actually pay attention to the movie, which made things rather less enjoyable.
Okay, I'll admit, that's probably not fair. I suppose it's just the sort of movie you'd like, if you like that sort of thing. For me, well, not so much. To be completely honest, I actually missed the first twenty minutes or so. I was busy making a tortilla pizza. It was delicious. As for the movie, well, it's got a bunch of spies and mystery and intrigue and the like, and a lot of people telling other people not to trust people. And it's got a lot of Matt Damon, sitting around, standing around, sometimes walking or riding in a car, wearing old-fashioned glasses and not talking much. It takes subtlety past a science or an art and into the realm of the vaguely absurd, and it drags the viewer along by the ankle, keeping the plot just close enough to sensible to make you think that if you watch five minutes more, maybe you'll actually understand it. A successful movie, IMO, makes you feel something: triumphant, despairing, uplifted, intrigued, inspired, unsettled. This one left me with a feeling of vague confusion and mild glumness; it seemed way too detached to make a strong impression, and for a close-to-three-hour-long movie, that's not much of an achievement.
Dad and I rented and watched three movies this evening, because we lead exciting lives like that. The first was American Dreamz, which had its amusing moments, I suppose. The thing I noticed though, and I guess this is pretty true of political satire in general, is how very quickly it can become dated. I mean, this movie isn't particularly old (it came out what, last year?), but a lot of it didn't seem all that fresh or funny, because it's all been so very done at this point. Wow, the president's a halfwit, ha ha. Never seen that one before. I really wish I'd seen this film in the theater when it first came around, because I feel like I might've appreciated it a lot more then. (Or maybe not; maybe it wasn't really that funny to begin with, and it's just easier to make excuses about it now. Who knows?)
The second one was Invincible, about the average-Joe bartender guy who goes to play for the Philadelphia Eagles. It was your pretty basic underdog sports flick, except that the end seemed rather sudden; it was happy, yes, but there was no miraculous championship run, ending in one amazing play by the rookie to win it all. It seemed a little darker and somewhat more subtle than your average Disney movie as well; I can't decide if I liked it more or less for that. If you want an all-out, feel-good football flick, Remember the Titans is probably a better bet. Thumbs up on the soundtrack though; you really can't miss with Ted Nugent and Bachman-Turner Overdrive, among others.
And to finish out the night, we watched The Good Shepherd, the one about the CIA, starring Matt Damon and enough other big names that if I'd had internet access, I could've actually kept myself interested for the full 2:47 playing six degrees on IMDB. As it was, I had to actually pay attention to the movie, which made things rather less enjoyable.
Okay, I'll admit, that's probably not fair. I suppose it's just the sort of movie you'd like, if you like that sort of thing. For me, well, not so much. To be completely honest, I actually missed the first twenty minutes or so. I was busy making a tortilla pizza. It was delicious. As for the movie, well, it's got a bunch of spies and mystery and intrigue and the like, and a lot of people telling other people not to trust people. And it's got a lot of Matt Damon, sitting around, standing around, sometimes walking or riding in a car, wearing old-fashioned glasses and not talking much. It takes subtlety past a science or an art and into the realm of the vaguely absurd, and it drags the viewer along by the ankle, keeping the plot just close enough to sensible to make you think that if you watch five minutes more, maybe you'll actually understand it. A successful movie, IMO, makes you feel something: triumphant, despairing, uplifted, intrigued, inspired, unsettled. This one left me with a feeling of vague confusion and mild glumness; it seemed way too detached to make a strong impression, and for a close-to-three-hour-long movie, that's not much of an achievement.
Saturday, June 23, 2007
Heritage Days
I must say, there really is nothing in the world quite like a street fair. Technically, it ought to be a horrible experience. I mean, if you stop and think about it, there's no way you're going to enjoy yourself. For one thing, the prices are outrageous. For what you pay to get a fair number of tickets, you could almost go to a themepark for an entire day and ride more and better rides, and the "unlimited pass" armbands aren't all that much better. And have you seen some of the people that hang out at street fairs? That safety bar you're clutching for dear life has had who-knows-how-many other people holding on to it, with who-knows-what on their hands. You're eating deep-fried snacks sold by questionable-looking characters from dingy little trailers parked along the street with hoses running from the back into the sewer grate under the curb. You're whirling around at 30 mph, 50 feet up in the air, on a piece of equipment that's been taken apart, driven around, and reassembled countless times by people who often have a questionable-at-best mastery of English, and sometimes seem like they may well have flunked out of the third grade. And we do this for fun?
...Well, yes. At least, I do. I suppose I can't speak for you. But really, it's a grand experience, if you want look at it that way.
You can sit on a bench and in ten minutes you'll have seen a fascinating array of people walk by. There are parents shepherding herds of small children from one place to the next, the adults in various stages of mental breakdown, the children thrilled or overwhelmed or upset they haven't gotten to go on their ride of choice. There's the shirtless guy with a mullet, cigarette dangling from his lips and beer sloshing occasionally from the can in his hand, yelling friendly obscenities at one of his buddies he's just spotted down the street. There's the old couple strolling nostalgically past the game booth, smiling as they head for the car show on the next block. There's a knot of 13-, 14-, and 15-year old kids, girls with tight shirts and makeup piled on thick, boys with baggy jeans and ball caps turned sideways, all engaged in an unspoken contest to see who can be the hottest, the toughest, the coolest, and who can say "fuck" the most times in a sentence while they have the advantage of being away from their parents. If nothing else, it's a fascinating study in bahavior.
And then there's the smells. Above all, you've got food: the hot, salty smell of pretzels and fries, the tang of onion rings, the warm, slippery butter scent of popcorn. There's the sugary blanket of cotton candy, elephant ears, and ice cream, and there's the unmistakable aroma of hot, greasy pizza. Underneath those are innumerable slight undertones: the odor of too many people, of sweat and unwashed bodies; the sour atmosphere around a garbage can where somebody had one too many sodas before going on the scrambler; the clouds of cigarette smoke or the slight whiff of marijuana if you get to close to the guy running the spaceship ride. They all whirl and blend together into one fantastic concoction that's never the same twice, but is always unmistakable as the smell of a street fair.
I don't really have much more to say on the subject. I've probably bored you already (all like, two of you that might actually read this). But I just had quite a lovely day, and I felt like emphasizing the glory that is a street fair. The lights, the music, the deliciously gaudy displays and utter lack of class—it's irreplaceable. I can't wait 'til next year.
...Well, yes. At least, I do. I suppose I can't speak for you. But really, it's a grand experience, if you want look at it that way.
You can sit on a bench and in ten minutes you'll have seen a fascinating array of people walk by. There are parents shepherding herds of small children from one place to the next, the adults in various stages of mental breakdown, the children thrilled or overwhelmed or upset they haven't gotten to go on their ride of choice. There's the shirtless guy with a mullet, cigarette dangling from his lips and beer sloshing occasionally from the can in his hand, yelling friendly obscenities at one of his buddies he's just spotted down the street. There's the old couple strolling nostalgically past the game booth, smiling as they head for the car show on the next block. There's a knot of 13-, 14-, and 15-year old kids, girls with tight shirts and makeup piled on thick, boys with baggy jeans and ball caps turned sideways, all engaged in an unspoken contest to see who can be the hottest, the toughest, the coolest, and who can say "fuck" the most times in a sentence while they have the advantage of being away from their parents. If nothing else, it's a fascinating study in bahavior.
And then there's the smells. Above all, you've got food: the hot, salty smell of pretzels and fries, the tang of onion rings, the warm, slippery butter scent of popcorn. There's the sugary blanket of cotton candy, elephant ears, and ice cream, and there's the unmistakable aroma of hot, greasy pizza. Underneath those are innumerable slight undertones: the odor of too many people, of sweat and unwashed bodies; the sour atmosphere around a garbage can where somebody had one too many sodas before going on the scrambler; the clouds of cigarette smoke or the slight whiff of marijuana if you get to close to the guy running the spaceship ride. They all whirl and blend together into one fantastic concoction that's never the same twice, but is always unmistakable as the smell of a street fair.
I don't really have much more to say on the subject. I've probably bored you already (all like, two of you that might actually read this). But I just had quite a lovely day, and I felt like emphasizing the glory that is a street fair. The lights, the music, the deliciously gaudy displays and utter lack of class—it's irreplaceable. I can't wait 'til next year.
Monday, June 18, 2007
I'll spare you the pun.
So, I know we're all tired by now of hearing about the guy who's suing the dry cleaners about the lost pants. Ridiculous, yes? The comparisons between him and the hot-coffee lady have been drawn, the American civil law system has been derogated and defended, and the pants man has been confused with Marion Barry (?!). Digression aside, I probably wouldn't bother to comment on it, except for one thing that kind of bothers me: I heard about it on the Australian news.
Now, I was only in Australia for ten days, and during those ten days, I think I might've watched a grand total of four hours of TV, one of them being an episode of SVU (shut up, okay? The obsession must be fed). Point is, I didn't watch a lot of news, so I can't say I have a great handle on the Australian news perspective. But I did see some (mostly because my roommate seemed to love obsessively watching the weather feed across the bottom of the screen), and I remember hearing exactly two things about the U.S., one being a brief mention of the alleged theft of George W's watch, and the other being a brief mention of the pants suit. (God, the puns really are unavoidable, aren't they?)
Assuming that this is a reasonably well-spread sampling of the Australian media (and as I said, that could be assuming a lot, but for the sake of argument, let's say it's not), what must they think of us? And this is Australia—as countries go, the U.S. is less of an anathema there than in many other places. *sigh* I really do hate the bubble that so often seems to surround this country. I need to surf foreign news sites more often.
(For anyone interested, it seems that there is at least some semblance of justice left in the world. Not much, but some.)
On a completely unrelated note, one of my lifelong dreams has been shattered: I will never be a contestant on The Price is Right as hosted by the inimitable Bob Barker. His final episode aired June 15, and I (being out of the country) couldn't even watch it. So I am left to console myself with various highlights on YouTube.
And finally, I would like to note that jetlag really, really sucks.
Now, I was only in Australia for ten days, and during those ten days, I think I might've watched a grand total of four hours of TV, one of them being an episode of SVU (shut up, okay? The obsession must be fed). Point is, I didn't watch a lot of news, so I can't say I have a great handle on the Australian news perspective. But I did see some (mostly because my roommate seemed to love obsessively watching the weather feed across the bottom of the screen), and I remember hearing exactly two things about the U.S., one being a brief mention of the alleged theft of George W's watch, and the other being a brief mention of the pants suit. (God, the puns really are unavoidable, aren't they?)
Assuming that this is a reasonably well-spread sampling of the Australian media (and as I said, that could be assuming a lot, but for the sake of argument, let's say it's not), what must they think of us? And this is Australia—as countries go, the U.S. is less of an anathema there than in many other places. *sigh* I really do hate the bubble that so often seems to surround this country. I need to surf foreign news sites more often.
(For anyone interested, it seems that there is at least some semblance of justice left in the world. Not much, but some.)
On a completely unrelated note, one of my lifelong dreams has been shattered: I will never be a contestant on The Price is Right as hosted by the inimitable Bob Barker. His final episode aired June 15, and I (being out of the country) couldn't even watch it. So I am left to console myself with various highlights on YouTube.
And finally, I would like to note that jetlag really, really sucks.
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Home again, home again, jiggity jig!
Well, after what has probably been the single longest day of my life, I finally find myself in my own bedroom once more. It has been, as they say, a trip. Honestly, coming home wasn't that bad, for it being such a long day (3 AM Sydney time to 3 AM Indiana time: 38 hours in all). Qantas is an awesome airline, and they officially have the best in-flight entertainment in the world. Not only do they have movies, they have a huge selection of movies, on-demand (meaning you can start, stop, pause, rewind, etc.). Over the whole trip there and back, I ended up watching Pan's Labrynth, Borat, The Pursuit of Happyness, Freedom Writers, Words and Music, and The Blues Brothers. (Think how much money I've saved on movie rentals now!) And this is all not to mention the on-demand TV selections, video games, music library, and a dozen radio stations. I brought five books and my mp3 player, but honestly, I could've gotten away with nothing and not been bored on the long flights. Amazing.
Today was also a day of trying new things. I used the airplane bathroom (not once but twice), and did not freak out, as I am often wont to do in tiny bathrooms.I also slept—real, full-on, loss-of-consciousness sleep—for close to two hours straight on the flight from Dallas to Indy. I don't know if this will be a repeatable experience, as it only happened because I was utterly exhausted by that point and I somehow managed to be the only person in my row and so could lay down across three seats. Either way, it was certainly nice. (Of course, it also ruined my plan of wearing myself out and going to bed right when I got home so I could get up in the morning—I'm now completely wide awake.)
They managed to have a "special" (read: vegetarian) meal for me at every in-flight meal except for dinner, which was ironically the only one that actually included meat in the regular meal, so I got to pick around the chicken for that. I felt kind of bad for the flight attendant, because he was all flustered and apologizing, and I told him it obviously wasn't his fault and it was no big deal, but he still felt bad, you could tell. So then he went off and found a plate of vegetables somewhere and heated it up for me. It was spinach and mushrooms and something else in the middle, kind of mushy and gross, to be quite honest, but the guy was obviously trying really hard, so I thanked him profusely and ate most of it anyway.
And, wonder of wonders, I made my connection in Dallas! I know, I could hardly believe it either. This does not entirely disperse my utter loathing of that airport, but it does mitigate it somewhat. That and the fact that I now have a new airport (LAX) to completely loathe. Seriously, what were those people smoking when they built that place?
Anyway, I'm off to go stare at the ceiling now and pretend I'm sleeping, so that I can lie to myself tomorrow and pretend that I'm not tired. God love jetlag.
Today was also a day of trying new things. I used the airplane bathroom (not once but twice), and did not freak out, as I am often wont to do in tiny bathrooms.I also slept—real, full-on, loss-of-consciousness sleep—for close to two hours straight on the flight from Dallas to Indy. I don't know if this will be a repeatable experience, as it only happened because I was utterly exhausted by that point and I somehow managed to be the only person in my row and so could lay down across three seats. Either way, it was certainly nice. (Of course, it also ruined my plan of wearing myself out and going to bed right when I got home so I could get up in the morning—I'm now completely wide awake.)
They managed to have a "special" (read: vegetarian) meal for me at every in-flight meal except for dinner, which was ironically the only one that actually included meat in the regular meal, so I got to pick around the chicken for that. I felt kind of bad for the flight attendant, because he was all flustered and apologizing, and I told him it obviously wasn't his fault and it was no big deal, but he still felt bad, you could tell. So then he went off and found a plate of vegetables somewhere and heated it up for me. It was spinach and mushrooms and something else in the middle, kind of mushy and gross, to be quite honest, but the guy was obviously trying really hard, so I thanked him profusely and ate most of it anyway.
And, wonder of wonders, I made my connection in Dallas! I know, I could hardly believe it either. This does not entirely disperse my utter loathing of that airport, but it does mitigate it somewhat. That and the fact that I now have a new airport (LAX) to completely loathe. Seriously, what were those people smoking when they built that place?
Anyway, I'm off to go stare at the ceiling now and pretend I'm sleeping, so that I can lie to myself tomorrow and pretend that I'm not tired. God love jetlag.
Friday, June 15, 2007
fin!
Just finished up with our final summit simulation, and I must say, it's a rather nice feeling. No more editing proposals, no more networking, no more griping about drunken members of the summit team not showing up...it's pleasant.
The simulation itself was fairly unremarkable, and pretty typical of these mock summits, I expect. My group's proposal passed uneventfully (environment); some others passed, some others failed. The public health group's proposal was passed unanimously, and the science and tech one also passed, despite apparently lukewarm support during the debate (I expect this was due to a number of vote trading deals; that's why we supported them anyway). So, yeah. It was mildly interesting, if you're into that sort of thing, but I'm definitely glad it's done.
Of course, this also means we are nearing the end of our stay, and though I have been enjoying myself to a good extent (despite my frequent griping), I am definitely ready to go home. The thing about these trips is, half the fun is getting back and telling people about them. And I must say, even though the schedule beats the hell out of the one we had for NYLC, it's still quite full. I'm ready to get home and relax, and work on some things I want to do for me (like getting this damn blog up to date). So, wish me luck on my ridiculously long flights tomorrow, and I should be stateside in short order.
The simulation itself was fairly unremarkable, and pretty typical of these mock summits, I expect. My group's proposal passed uneventfully (environment); some others passed, some others failed. The public health group's proposal was passed unanimously, and the science and tech one also passed, despite apparently lukewarm support during the debate (I expect this was due to a number of vote trading deals; that's why we supported them anyway). So, yeah. It was mildly interesting, if you're into that sort of thing, but I'm definitely glad it's done.
Of course, this also means we are nearing the end of our stay, and though I have been enjoying myself to a good extent (despite my frequent griping), I am definitely ready to go home. The thing about these trips is, half the fun is getting back and telling people about them. And I must say, even though the schedule beats the hell out of the one we had for NYLC, it's still quite full. I'm ready to get home and relax, and work on some things I want to do for me (like getting this damn blog up to date). So, wish me luck on my ridiculously long flights tomorrow, and I should be stateside in short order.
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