Dag Nab All that Objectivity!

Jeffrey Overstreet got a letter today, and it’s a bit of a doozy.

Mr. Overstreet published a positive review of NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN at Christianity Today. The emphatic response starts out with:

“I cannot believe that any Christian could review this movie as objectively as you did!” (There were actually seven exclamation points, but I removed the extra ones for fear that they would poke an eye out.)

Now some of y’all, like me, are probably thinking that this is going to be a positive letter, starting out with such a strong compliment.

But you would have misunderstood the exclamation points: the letter-writer doesn’t consider being objective a compliment –in fact, he sees it as an insult.

Second sentence (and third thrown in for fun):

“This is exactly what is wrong with our society! Tell it like it is and don’t be afraid to offend anyone!!!!!”

The letter goes on to rant about what an awful movie this was; which is cool. I don’t always agree with Jeff myself, and everyone is entitled to their own opinion.

But I am disturbed by why he’s mad at Jeff himself – the three anti-Christian qualities that he considers to be the root of problems in America:

Jeff is objective – he doesn’t prejudge movies, and actually uses the movies themselves to form his opinions
Jeff tells it like it is – he is honest and truthful
Jeff isn’t afraid to offend others, especially with truth

Seems to me that rampant objectivity and honesty isn’t a problem in this country at all; in fact, they seem to be rare qualities.

And where does this fellow get off claiming that Christianity SHOULD be marked in such a way? That Jesus exemplified dishonesty, narrow mindedness and the fear of offending with Truth?

I guess I’m not riled by this because a lone nutter feels this way, but because I fear that he isn’t a lone nutter.

I fear that the country really is embracing a lack of objectivity and a lack of truth as virtues.

Certainly our specialized news channels (know what you think about the news before it happens!) and politicians (I’ll know what I believe as soon as the polls are in) seem to reinforce those “virtues.”

Hey, lack of truth in our culture has been around for a long time. But we used to pretend that we weren't intentionally dishonest (“I never lied. I just misunderstood the definition of the word ‘is.’”)

Are we really at the point where we can now boldly call someone out as unChristian and unAmerican because they are open and honest?

Just my thoughts (until the new poll numbers tell me I was thinking differently),

Sean

From Creative Screenwriting:

"When I examine myself and my methods of thought I come to the conclusion that the gift of fantasy has meant more to me than my talent for absorbing knowledge."

– Albert Einstein

From Jason's quote of the day:

"So, what's on your mind, if you'll pardon the overstatement."

-Fred Allen

All the Leaves Are Brown

I was listening to a podcast that friend Cory put me onto (www.steelehouse.com), when one of the speakers mentioned that a guy in a band happened to be a Christian.

His partner hurriedly interrupted with, “We should warn our listeners that he’s more of a California Christian.”

Being a Christian who lives in California, I was curious as to what that meant.

And being lazy, I didn’t want to do any research or actually make an effort to contact the guy who threw up the shielding remark to protect the innocent.

Instead I sat and thought of how California may be different from where the real Christians live, and applied those differences to faith.

Here is how California Christians differ from the rest of y’all (at least us SoCal Xians):

-We deal with a level of spiritual warfare that y’all don’t have to face. We call that ethereal battle the “405 freeway.”

-Which leads to: we are more apt to be seen praying on the road, window down, often the prayer shouted at another driver (reflective of our evangelical nature) as we have one finger lifted to the heavens in praise.

-We have historically been more apt to follow the precepts of Genesis in being good stewards of the planet, and will show our support for the green by proudly driving our Hummers to “Save the Planet” rallies (even if said Rally is two blocks from our house…)

-Side note: The Beach Boys wish they all could be California Christians.

-We proudly have brought the divine into every day life and conversation by making ubiquitous the phrases “oh my g-d” and “like, for sure” (a direct translation of the term, “amen”). Case in point, I refer you to the recent “Gossip Girls” posters showing two worshippers in ecstatic prayer, calling out the text equivalent, “OMG.”

-We see our bodies as a temple, and thus will only eat organic salads, organic botox and organic mind altering drugs. And we keep our bodies in shape, even if we have to suction fat or insert implants to do so.

-We take seriously the admonition to put “no idols before thee” – and thus have scheduled Idol for 9 pm on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, a full three hours after (not before) “The 700 Club.”

-We believe that the Bible is inerrant and perfect as is, and we wouldn’t change a thing. We do, however, have a few small notes, maybe a couple of suggestions, an idea or two to help with the marketing -- and reserve the option to bring in our own writer if needed.

That’s my short list – maybe you have a few of your own to add.

As for me, the next time I hear a snarky reference to Californians, I will smugly smile in the knowledge that our Governator faced the devil himself and saved us all from the End of Days.

Can you say the same about your governor?

Just my thoughts,

Sean

It's Fun For a Girl and a Boy!

I have a Slinky on my desk, one of the office presents given me by my wife.

Some people can't be in the office without picking it up and playing with it. (Jason resists -- instead he shoots nerf hoops.)

Jill was one of those people before she moved to the milder climes of the east coast. Maybe that's why she thought to forward this quote to me:

“Some folks are like Slinkys - not good for anything, but you smile when you push them down stairs.”

Just my thoughts,

Sean

More Than a Fool's Day

Well, I survived April.

Still not making my 10,000 steps a day quota. Last week I went to Catalina, and spent a day hiking and in general was more active than ever. Averaged 9,000 steps.

Can’t imagine doing better than climbing the Hermit Gulch Trail in my desk-bound existence.

Maybe they mean 10,000 metric steps. Gotta get me a converter.

Also fell short with script Frenzy. The slogan is: 100 pages in 30 days. I’m blaming my number dyslexia for my 30 pages in 100 days.

Don’t make fun of my number dyslexia, it’s not pc!

Did manage to finish planning for Cath’s birthday party.

Of course the planning consisted of calling a local arcade and ordering the kid’s birthday special.

Miniature golf and ten tokens for arcade games – have to say it was a blast. Plus we each got a slice of pizza (or a slice of the cardboard container that houses pizza, hard to say from the taste) and a cup of ice cream.

And our guests all willingly became five (or four, for some of them) again for one night of outrageous fun.

Still behind on Lost (just started the Michael episode – are they going to succeed in making me forgive him?) and Battlestar (just finished the ep where the wife finds out, and the confrontation in the launch tube. And may I say – wowza! Cold, cold, cold.)

Now on to May – the month of catching up! (Okay, maybe not this year…)

Just my thoughts,

Sean

All the World

I fell in love with her watching her try to balance two boyfriends, all the while trying to convince her parents she was dating a third guy.

If you think that sounds like a plot to a zany rom com, you are half right. I fell in love with her watching her play a character that was trying to balance two guys…

There’s a lot of joy to be found in being married to an actress (the angst I’ll save for another blog). Not the least of which is getting to see them working hard at play.

Each character my wife takes on is an act of creation. She played a sculptress once; and that is an apt description of being an actress, using her own frame and psyche as her clay.

To her most empathetic characters, she always seems to take a part of herself – a better part of herself – and give it to the role. So I get to see the best of her – her humor, compassion, wit, vulnerability – played out in another character.

And I get to fall in love with her all over again.

I try to think of which role is my favorite – a lost cause really. I just get lost in memories of being made to laugh (Essie), or moved with the painful beauty of a moment (Bella), or forced to think deeper (Kathleen), or just plain transported in pleasure (June).

I had the privilege of seeing her in a short film recently.

Ah.

She was playing a woman older that her age – she actually auditioned for a different part, but was so compelling to the director that she was cast as the lead.

Playing older in Hollywood is a tricky thing for most actors. So many are sensitive to their age, they won’t play older – in fact, most actresses over thirty will resist playing their own age!

And those that do can often be seen to “act” – either pushing to appear so much older, as if to say to the audience “I’m young, but talented enough to play old!”

Or they try to play younger than both the character and themselves, hoping, I suppose, that casting directors view the film thinking, “Why did they miscast that sweet young thing as a fifty year old? She can’t be a day over fifteen!”

Catherine’s approach wasn’t about how old she appeared to be. She didn’t push older, or younger. She just-

Was.

As an actress she brought a comfort in her own skin that was shockingly inspiring. It allowed the discomfort that her character felt to bubble to the surface, and dribble out like tears.

The trait of Catherine’s that she gifted this creation: vulnerability.

There is a moment in the action, when the character – a mother staid in her ways, views and years – opens herself up to an intimate audience: her daughter. And there is a close-up of Catherine’s face in that moment –

Exposed.

Defenseless.

Fragile.

And heart breaking.

And I fell in love with her all over again.

Tomorrow, my wife who is already so beautiful, becomes one year more so. And seeing where she is with her craft right now, I can’t begin to describe how excited I am at getting to be by her side as the future unfolds.

Just my thoughts,

Sean

Odyssey in Ulysses Part Six: Ithaca, At Last! So, Where’s the Mall

Done. Finished.

James Joyce’s epic monolith is now behind me.

It was a long hard journey, reading this book. Unsure of the whether the waters were safe, hitting chapters I would have sworn I would never get out of, losing so many companions along the way.

But now I’ve made it home. Things I learned along the way:

-Joyce was a genius. Sure I knew that already, having been told.

But the depth of political/social/religious commentary crammed into every page, all while mirroring classic texts, art styles, and scientific reasoning. Wow.

-A mind’s a terrible thing to waste. I mean, yeah it’s brilliant, but it’s unreadable!

This book is a gift, to be sure, but one that can be enjoyed or utilized by so few.

Imagine if he channeled all that power into writing comic books, or episodes of “Hannah Montana.” Then he really would have rocked the world.

-Golfers and fisherman are notorious liars, but they have nothing on the people that claim to have read this book.

If you meet anyone bragging they they read ULYSSES in high school, they are flat out lying.

If they say they read it for a college class, what they mean is that they read an excerpt, skimmed Cliff Notes, and listened to their professor talk about the book. By the way, the professor never read it either.

If they say they read it for a graduate class, and they sigh and look off in the distance as if to contemplate on all the good that could have been done with those wasted years, then you have a winner. They actually read the book.

-You can’t always count on your friends when you want to be miserable.

I would complain about how horrible a chapter is to Vicki (who was reading slightly behind me for a while). Like a good friend, she commiserated with me, dreading having to go through those same pages in the near future.

Then a day or so later, she would say, “Were you kidding? I loved that chapter – it was so funny! And deep – did you notice how he was parodying orthodox and liberal catechisms throughout this section? ”

And all the fun of griping would go away.

-No one else understands.

I wrangled with Andrea about it at the same time (I later discovered) that Vicki was arguing with Cory about it.

“If you hate reading it so much, why continue?”

The simple answer is: because.

Because I’ve read it this far already and don’t want to feel like a quitter.

Because it is brilliant, and good exposure.

Because if I quit now, I will never try it again.

Because, like the mountain, it is there, and so few before me have conquered it.

Because I am humbled by it, and yet still able to feed my pride.

And most importantly, because Jack led the way, tying himself to the mast when necessary, laying the course between Scylla and Charybdis.

We could never leave our captain behind.

Just my thoughts,

Sean

Hold the Church...

This past Sunday, our missions pastor was given a tricky task.

Our sermon series is entitled, “Give me Jesus… Hold the Church.” Enoch was assigned the sermon: “The church should back off.”

Which, he pointed out, if he were successful in preaching to us, we would no longer have use of a missions pastor and his job would be eliminated.

Of course his sermon was much more complex than a simple, “the church should back off.” (The sermon should be available here in a day or two.)

His major point was that the world needs and wants the love of Jesus, but they don’t see that love in the Church. We may start out looking like Jesus, but we paint our faces so we look “better.”

And we end up looking more like clowns than Jesus.

We need to approach our lives, our mission, our ministry, with selflessness, humility and obedience. Otherwise, we end up putting our emphasis on the wrong things; and I would say, start to look at “success” in a twisted way.

He retold the story of Thomas Aquinas and Pope Innocent (not likely a true story, by the by…)

The Pope was giving a tour of the Vatican to Thomas Aquinas. The pope showed Thomas the extravagant artwork, the vaults of treasures, all of the wealth of the church on display.

With a smile, the Pope said, “Thomas, no longer do we have to say to the world, ‘Silver and gold have I none”

“True,” Thomas sadly replied. “Also we can no longer say to the lame, ‘in the name of Jesus Christ, rise up and walk.’”

Ouch.

Just my thoughts,

Sean

Odyssey in Ulysses Part Five: Penelope, Or: Hey, Lady, Take a Breath Already!

The good news: I am eight sentences away from finally finishing ULYSSES.

The bad news: the first sentence contains 2,500 words. And that's the short one.

Oh, and no punctuation within those sentences.

My teachers always rebuked me for run-on sentences.

I now imagine myself being confronted by Miss Peterson.

“That is a run on sentence,” she would accuse, stabbing a finger at my paper.

“Well, read this!” I would rejoin, stabbing a finger at episode eighteen.

Then the other kids and I would go out and play. We would return a day and half later, to find her just finishing the sentence.

“Well,” she would say, somewhat ruffled. “When you are as famous as James Joyce, I will give you a better grade!”

And I would take my paper back, secure in the knowledge that a day and a half on the playground was worth the B minus.

Just my thoughts,

Sean

No Fear

Dalai Dalliance

Okay, I can never catch up on my friends’ blogs. It’s not just that they write way too much (they do), but they are also way too interesting.

I get sucked in, lose track of time, forget to release the pressure valve on the nuclear reactor, blow up Springfield, and, well, after that things start to get bad.

And thus went today, as I tried to catch up on Jeff Overstreet’s blog.

First off, I learned that Michael Moore and I agree on something – only it took Mikey longer to figure Hillary out than I did.

And real world Homer is freaky looking.

But the thing that really made me sit back and wonder, “What do I think about that?” was this post.

Go on, scoot over to Jeff’s blog and read it. I’ll wait.

I’m waiting…

Okay, so you only skimmed it. Let me fill you in: a public school made all the kids go to a talk by the Dalai Lama, and made them wear pro-Buddhism t-shirts.

A parent wrote a letter to the paper, pointing out that this action on the part of the schools seems a tad hypocritical, considering that if the leader in question were a Christian, this would never be allowed.

So here’s what I came up with after sitting back and pondering:

I gotta go with G. K. Chesterton on this one.

"Religious liberty might be supposed to mean that everybody is free to discuss religion. In practice it means that hardly anybody is allowed to mention it."

I’d hate for my kid to miss a chance to hear a talk by the Dalai Lama.

And I would want my kid to get a chance to chat with the Pope if he were in town.

In fact, if I ran the world, I would make it a standard part of the school year to hear from different religious leaders. Hey, I would be a bit picky, but still open.

I agree with the letter writer’s frustration that only other people’s religion is appropriate for the public square; but I think I would have kept my mouth shut for fear of restricting religion even more by my complaint.

You can be sure that the ACLU will be suing (or someone looking for notoriety or money will) – and you can be sure that the next time a major world leader is in town, the schools will think twice before exposing their charges to an outsider.

And that makes me a little sad.

Just my thoughts,

Sean

April Showers

Behind in some of my quests for the month of April. Here's a mid-month report card:

Posting mid-month report card: six days late.

Stepping Out - Work sponsored event to get us desk jockeys walking a healthy average of 10,000 steps a day. Current average: 6,300. That's fewer steps then when I started...

Script Frenzy - Nonprofit writer support, attempting to get writers to complete 100 pages of script in a month. My current count: 30 pages.

James Joyces' ULYSSES - Book club finished it in February; I started in November. Two chapters left to go -- out of 18 chapters total.

A Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich -- this month's book club book. Finished it.

The Tummy Thing -- attempting to lose a bit of the spare tire before taking Cath to Catalina at the end of the month. So far: gained weight.

Cath's birthday -- hoping to get plans for the celebration done before the actual date. Doing well here -- figured out the party and the present. Of course, Cath had to plan both of those... but I helped!

BADD -- was assigned two sketches that fell due in April. Wrote two, just not the two assigned. Only half way there.

Act One applications -- read all application material before deadline. Got it done with hours to spare.

Act One Saturdays -- keep ahead of small group reading material. So far, so good. Of course, we are in the one page synopsis phase. But I'll take it...

Reading -- finish book of essays borrowed from neighbor; one essay to go. Finish reading Ulysses companion book borrowed from friend; see above. Start reading book on church philosophy borrowed from friend -- hah! Haven't started, so there.

Blog -- keep posting at least every weekday. Oops.

Twitter -- figure out how to use that web feature. Can't remember how to log in.

Drac project -- finish writing first twenty eps of an online series; finish post-production on prequel short film. Uh, no and not yet.

Lost and Such -- stay up on viewing my stories -- especially those that friends talk about around me. 3 episodes behind on Lost; 2 episodes behind on John Adams; finally caught up with Battlestar, unless -- oh fiddlesticks (I'm too old fashioned to say "frak"). Was there a new episode on Friday? Don't tell me what happens!

Just my thoughts,

Sean

The Soul of Wit

Cath got me a Brevity day calendar for my work desk. I never heard of it before -- but now I am hooked on this strip by Guy and Rodd.

Just thougtht I would share.

-Sean

Odyssey in Ulysses Part Four: Lotuscation, Lotuscation, Lotuscation

Our book club met to talk over the first half of James Joyce’s ULYSSES a bit back.

I think James would have approved of our evening, as the conversation met three Joycian characteristics:

1) There was alcohol involved.
2) It was random and wacky
3) No one understand a thing anyone else said.

You see, we decided to meet in a pub, really being the only way to discuss ULYSSES. What we hadn’t realized was that the pub added a live band to its intimate setting.

With our table right next to the band, or more to the point right next to the band’s very large speakers, it was nearly impossible to hear each other.

Here is a snippet of our conversation:

Bob: (shouting) Is anyone going to have a hard lemonade or a Guinness?

Jack: (shouting) Of course he was. He had to be with all those references to history and literature.

Me: (shouting) What?

Heather: (shouting) No thanks, I’m fine over here.

Bob: (shouting) So that’s one beer. Should I get a pitcher?

Jack: (shouting) My version didn’t have any. Just text.

Me: (shouting) What?

Heather: (shouting) I agree, even though the Supreme Court ruled that it wasn’t that crude.

Bob: (shouting) Lets finish ordering the drinks first, then we can settle on food.

Me: I don’t think I was reading the same book as any of you guys.

Eventually we realized that the pub wouldn’t work, so we moved to a café. The conversation seemed to go smoother.

Jack talked about the history of publication, then showed a map of Dublin marking Mr. Bloom’s journey through the book.

Heather talked about the parallels to Homer’s work, and the choice to directly mirror some characters while only superficially echoing others.

Bob dissected some of the authors and literary forms that Joyce was emulating and then deconstructing.

Vicki spoke about how each chapter not only represented a chapter from THE ODYSSEY, but also an art form, color and body organ.

And my contribution:

Me: (shouting) What?

Just my thoughts,

Sean

Heretical Footprints

Just the other day, I got a response to an old, old post, where I re-imagine myself in the “Footprints In the Sand” poem. You may want to re-visit the original post for context.

Anonymous says: "This post and these comments insinuate that we are to try as hard as we can and then Jesus picks up where we leave off. The Gospel is entirely about us brining nothing to the table and that we are in need of total rescue--Jesus does it all. Unfortunately, this idea of pulling ourselves up by our spiritual bootstraps is an echo of the heresy pelagiansim. To be fair, it's semi-pelagianism."


I say:

Wow, I’m a heretic! Cool!

Hey, it’s not that I’m taking the admonition lightly; I just think Anonymous is making stuff up. As long as G-d doesn’t count me a heretic, I’m not worried.

First off, Anonymous isn’t really talking about Pelagianism at all.

Pelagius’ heresy (as I understand it) involved salvation, and my little exercise in imagination doesn’t even touch on salvation, merely how we live life. Eternal salvation is all Jesus, all grace. No question.

Pelagianism also says “without Jesus” – and my story is clear that Jesus is there all along (leaning, pulling). “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me…”

So Anonymous’ complaint really is the issue of walking – that to say “though I walk through the valley” is in and of itself heresy, because it implies we walk. And, for a lot of La-Z-Boy Christians, Jesus does all the walking here.

The claim that the gospels are all about us bringing nothing to the table, that there is to be no effort in life on our part, that we aren’t to even try to act Christ-like (Jesus does it all for us!) – I’ve never seen any of that in the Matthew, Mark, Luke or John.

Cheap grace is popular – very, very popular. But it just plain isn’t Biblical.

Jesus said, “Anyone who does not carry his cross and follow me can not be my disciple.” (Luke 14)

I don’t see anywhere in the gospels where He says, “Don’t sweat picking up your cross, and don’t even bother following me – we’re good!”

Other things that Jesus never said:

“Go, and sin some more if you feel like it – it’s all on me!”

“Whosoever did this to the least of my brothers, boy were they wasting their time! I don’t care about what you do or don’t do!”

“I tell you this, whosoever looks at his brother in anger… so what? Like it’s any of my business.”

“Who was this man’s neighbor? So go, and don’t bother doing likewise.”

“Go ye into all the world, and… Just kidding!”

I don’t even want to start on the things that Paul never said, like “don’t sweat perseverance. It’s overrated.”

Just my thoughts,

Sean

The Talented Author Ripley

Just discovered this on the flap of a book I'm entering into archives, by Clements Ripley from 1942:

"As to my writing methods," says Mr. Ripley, "I sit down and look at a piece of paper and wonder who ever told me I was a writer. I never start a story without feeling that everything I wrote before was pure fluke. I write and revise and tear up and rewrite..."

Just my thoughts,

Sean

Vote Early, and Vote Twice!

For today, I'm going political and telling you which candidate I support.

Not in the presidential election, but a local one. Usually I don't care about local elections -- my votes for school board or local judge is usually decided by a coin toss. But not this one.

For any of you that reside in Gotham, vote Dent for District Attorney.

Here is a video of Rachel Dawes giving her support.

I was excited to hear that Harvey Dent was running -- he is tough on crime, and isn't willing to cow-tow to all the two-faced politicians that currently run the city.

I feel pretty confident that the city would be safer with Harvey running things.

It couldn't hurt, right?

Just my thoughts,

Sean

Sweet Rayn

One thing that you should remember is that she chose me.

I’m not a cat person, really. Or much of a pet person in general.

Sure we always had cats or dogs or hamsters or even the occasional bunny around the house.

I have some pretty cool stories about Husky (the dog that got mistaken for a wolf), or Columbo (the dog that could see ghosts) or Tuffy (the dog that redirected traffic).

So I enjoyed pets all my life – but they were family pets or owned by one of the sibs.

I only had one pet before River and Rayn – a duck named Richard.

Richard (never Dick the duck – don’t even try it) was a result of a second grade class experiment with heat lamps and eggs. He didn’t make it through the fire that took our house near the end of that school year.

And so another thirty years before I took in another pet.

Technically River and Rayn are family pets, belonging (if cats can belong, which they can’t) to both Catherine and I. But it was pretty much unspoken agreement that I was a little more Rayn’s, because, well, she chose me.

When we were at the foster home checking out the rescued kitties, Rayn came and sat in my lap – something apparently she didn’t do to strangers. And River immediately went to Cath and started playing with her.

Leaving no question that these kitten siblings were coming home with us.

In the early days, Cath was a bit jealous, as Rayn would cuddle in my lap but not hers. Rayn was very particular, and had to be the chooser – Cath’s attempts to force a lap sitting were rebuffed.

But when the girl decided that my wife was okay – from then on they were fast friends.

In fact, Rayn rivaled me in some areas for Cath’s affection. My wife, ever ready to be a guest of James Lipton, always made clear that her favorite sound was my laugh.

I was informed one evening that her second favorite sound was Rayn’s purr – a deep rumbly purr that shook the mattress with the force of its contentment.

Rayn’s favorite position in the night was pushed up between my shoulder and my neck, where we could feel each other’s pulse, and match the rhythm of each other’s breathing.

With her body pressed to my ear, that purr of hers would make my skull vibrate. One would think such a racket would prevent sleep – but it was a soothing racket, a joyful noise as it were.

I was thinking about that purr today as I held her in my lap. It had been nearly two weeks since she stopped eating and drinking; her bones stuck up through her skin, her legs too wobbly to support her for more than a few steps at a time.

And that purr, that monster roar of satisfaction, had been greatly diminished – she simply didn’t have the strength for it. Cath could hear it only when putting her own ear to Rayn’s emaciated belly.

We sat together, Rayn in my lap, Cath leaning in, River making slow passes up and between us – giving up his normal rambunctiousness for a respect, somehow understanding the weight of the moment.

It was a vigil, that sitting, waiting for the time to arrive so we could deny it, then face it.

She let me carry her to the car – Rayn did not like to be carried; she went where she wished when she wished. But she hadn’t the strength to resist my arms, and I hadn’t the strength to allow any other means of transport.

The receptionist wanted to take a picture, she thought we were so cute sitting in the waiting area – me with the cat sprawled across my lap on into Catherine’s arms. That was another pleasure of Rayn’s – to find a way to be in physical contact with both of us at once.

The receptionist wanted to take a picture.

I wanted to run screaming.

I wanted to rail and cry.

I wanted to be back home lying in bed watching tv, with half the screen blocked and yet unwilling to shift that hot ball of fur scrunched up into my neck into a better position.

But today wasn’t a day for my wants.

I got to hold her at the end; Cath as well. A last chance to feel her pulse, to synch my breath with hers.

That last breath was a purr, not deep rumble, but a final sigh.

I’m not much of a cat person, but I will readily admit that I was and am a Rayn person.

There was something about that girl, who made me aware of my own pulse…

Who synched me with her breath of life…

Who helped me understand the rumble of contentment…

Who gave me the purr of just sitting still and knowing…

Who, it should be remembered, chose me.

Go well, sweet Rayn.

Just my thoughts,

Sean

Fishy April 1st

Here’s a few tidbits from some fellas at work:

Jonathan shared this bit of history:

“At my son's school they celebrated "Poison d'Avril" by making paper fish and then sticking them on people's backs. The origins of April Fools Day is that in the olden days the French would stuff the pockets of unsuspecting passersby with smelly fish.”

I think I now understand some of those Monty Python French references now.

This is a quote that David saw fit to pass on:

“Imitation is the sincerest form of television.” -Fred Allen

Speaking of quotes, Jason – who has the job of coming up with a quote for our department, found this one:

“Now and then an innocent man is sent to the legislature.” -Kin Hubbard

Just my thoughts,

Sean

Great Scott, Walter!

Truly random thoughts:

I am holding in my hands a book (no, I’m not – I’m typing. I’m being figurative. I was holding, and continue to lift into my hands a book while my fingers are not otherwise engaged in telling you what I’m doing.)

The book is Sir Walter Scott’s LADY OF THE LAKE.

A few things caught my attention.

The book is Scott’s poem, as edited and interpreted by a guy named Black who dedicated it to a lady named Agnes, and includes illustrations from Newton. The book, according to the note in the cover, was a gift from Mr. Beach to Mr. Dunlap, was later (30 yrs) owned by a Meadows, and then a J.L, before becoming property of my studio.

And now I am using time (paid!) skimming merrily through the lines of Scott and the Versification notes of Black.

Makes me happy that this particular edition traveled through so many hands.

Beach, the giver of the book, has the first name of Adalbut. Dunlap was christened Elmer.

We still have Elmers, but I don’t know any Adalbuts. I’m guessing Adalbut got beat up in junior high more than Elmer.

Beach made it a gift on October 12 – my birthday.

In 1929 – a wee bit before my birth year.

The gift of literature would come, then, 12 days before the start of the great Wall Street crash.

“”T is merry, ‘t is merry, in Fairy-land,
When fairy birds are singing…”

“…And woe betide the fairy dream.
I only waked to sob and scream.”

Inside the cover is a studio stamp, and the handwritten request: “Return to Story Dept.”

Only the “S” looks more like a “G.”

I like to think I work for the Glory Department. In fact, I want new business cards.

Just my thoughts,

Sean

Laughs, Frenzy and Brooms

Gonna be another busy weekend.



Cath is not only starring in a short film being shot (and, yes, if only she would blog more herself, y'all might have known more about it!) by stage manager for BADD's comedy show.


I'm also working the show ('natch) -- if you are in SoCal, you should come and see it. And if you aren't, you should at list click the link for the fun graphic and song.

I'm also prepping mentally for Script Frenzy -- 100 hundred pages of script in one month. Crazy, I know. But quality is not a requirement, and I'm good at doing things without quality.


Wait, that didn't sound right...
Oh, one last thing -- for those who have been rabidly following the college games, here's an update of how Middlebury is doing (thanks for the link, alumnus Tamara).


What, no Middlebury in your bracket?


Oh, I didn't mean that silly basketball thingee, I meant the true sport of quidditch (as played by muggles).


Somewhere, I can feel it, Janet is smiling...


Just my thoughts,


Sean

Stop the World...

Ever wish life were a musical?

Or that you could just take the busiest place in the world and slow it down?

Why wish, why not do? I reckon that is the philosophy of Improv Everywhere.

A group that thrives on surprise.

Check it out.

Don't cry over spilt milk, sing over spilt lemonade. The musical.

Here's a moment almost as lovely as the one in THE FISHER KING. Grand Central.

Just my thoughts,

Sean

And All Shall Be Well -- Even More So

Linds says:

“I'm teaching my freshmen about the Middle Ages right now, and your post got me thinking - I've always been a bit snooty about Julian of Norwich's revelations. For me the cynic, they've always seemed to sweet, saccharine really, too trite (except for that 'all shall be well' bit - it gives me such peace).“Upon diving back into a turbulent, bloody, dark, frightening, judgement-filled time period... well, maybe God knew exactly what He was doing plopping a woman of such capacity for grace and light in the middle of it. The balance she brings is nice, and necessary.”

Dear Linds:
I’m with you – normally I would look on her as way too sugary – and this from a guy who mixes his Lucky Charms into his Cap’n Crunch.

But G-d gives us what we need when we most need it – and boyo, did they need a little sugar.

You got your plagues, your wars, your multiple popes confusing everybody, plus no wifi – even in coffee shops!

There was a lot of blame throwing for the ills of the day – including the old, “G-d doesn’t like us, so he is punishing us.”

It seems that Julian was a course correction for that.

My friend Joanna, upon learning of my discovery of Lady Julian, loaned me her copy of THE THREAD OF ARIADNE (A collection of essays by the faculty of Dominican College of San Rafael), which includes the essay “All Shall Be Well.”

Here’s some more things I learned that tickled my fancy:

-Julian lived in contemplation in her cell for over 40 years. That’s my lifetime! (For those reading this in Hollywood, please substitute, “That’s twice my lifetime!” Thank you.)

-Anchoresses were allowed to have a cat as a companion. Which at first I thought must somehow help in contemplation, as cats appear to be deep thinkers.

But then it was explained that they helped with the rat problem.

I can only imagine Lady Julian attempting to write down her visions, with a cat in her lap batting away at the feather pen.

-She showed a lot of emotion in her writings, which was against the typical religious writing which emphasized cool restraint.

A lot of religious art was moving towards showing emotion – including the scandalous “Fainting Virgin” that depicted Mary in a swoon at her son’s crucifixion. Scandalous because it was unseemly to depict the saints as feeling, rather than purely thinking, beings.

This groundswell of feeling in art was a reaction to the “excessive intellectualism” of the times.

Which makes me think that Lady Julian should be the poster girl for today’s contemplative post-modern church movement.

-Communities were (and many still are) very proud to have a recluse among their number.

That’s a funny idea to me. “Hey, see that loner over there? Yeah, he’s one of us. We don’t talk to him. We’re so proud!”

Brings a whole new dynamic to the junior high cafeteria.

Just my thoughts,

Sean

PS. Thanks Randy for noting T. S. Eliot’s penchant for quoting Julian of Norwich – here and three other times in his poetry.

Autism: The Musical

I first heard about this new HBO documentary at work -- they held a screening for employees that I couldn't make. So I got Cath to set the Tivo for when it aired.

Just now I learned that my friend Stephanie works with the kids that are featured in the doc!

Starts on HBO tonight.

Catch it if you can.

Just my thoughts,

Sean

PS Belle -- do you know anything about this? Would love to hear your opinion.

A Thousand Words or So

Some pix to share. Think of it as Old Aunt Lillies vacation slides.

This one is just because I think my godson looks cute in it.

My godson is the yellow one with feathers.

Here's for those that think a diet of Poptarts and Doritos is enough.

Clearly such a diet needs more lard.

Here's one that's a revelation. Notice in this first shot, you can clearly see four of my nieces and nephews.

But by using a quicker shutter speed, the picture looks like this:

Proving once and for all that my nephew Grant is really the Easter Bunny, disguising himself by cleverly speeding up his molecules a hare to make them appear to the naked eye as a human form!

Thought y'all might want to know.

Just my thoughts,

Sean

It's March Madness, and I'm Not Going To Take It Anymore!

At this moment I am in first place in my family’s March Madness betting pool.

A few things you should know before I say anything further:

-Technically I am tied for first place, with virtually all other participants, as only three games have been announced, and we all seem to have bet on the high rankers.

-I am bragging now rather than waiting a few hours because I know absolutely nothing about college basketball, so all my choices were random guesses.

But for the moment, I’m number one! I’m number one!

I should know more about the game than I do. After all, my family plays basketball constantly; we even have a hoop in the driveway.

But that doesn’t translate. For instance, in college ball, they have no rule about kicking off the garage wall, their boards are sissy straight instead of weathered curled, and I’ve yet to see a game with a pickup truck parked at mid court.

The truck, by the way, is part of the court, and using it as a pick is perfectly acceptable.

My oldest brother was a coach for a college team, and I pretty much blame him for my lack of interest in being a spectator. When I would visit him in Chicago, we would watch the games together in his basement.

Anybody know how long a basketball game is? Sorry, you’re not even close.

They last forever! Because one doesn’t watch them live, rather one watches them on tape.

So one can re-watch every play.

Multiple times.

In slow motion.

AND in reverse.

I would try to argue with him. “Do we have to watch this play again? Nothing happened!”

“True,” he would concede. “But we must watch until we discern the “why” of nothing happening.”

I knew, as a young grasshopper, that I would never be ready to leave the basement until I could grasp the remote from his hand.

When making my bracket this year, I guessed from the hints that ESPN gave about each team. Not the information, but the tone.

If the writer seemed biased on a personal level, I went with it.

(“Despite not winning many games, these kids are real go-getters!” And they win in my bracket.

“They have the best offense and the best defense ever seen in the sport, but they tend to smell when they sweat.” And I mark them as losing in the first round.)

My favorite method of choosing winners is by mascot. Simply ask yourself whose mascot would win in a fight.

Would a hornet survive a wolf attack? How would a panther fare against a lion? Could a bulldog take on an orange blob?

This tactic would have come in handy last month.

I mean, seriously, no matter what you think about your country, it’s hard to beat a giant.

Just my thoughts,

Sean

By the way, I am no longer in first place. It was great while it lasted.

Do Go Gentle...

Cath did a devotional for our drama group centering on service. It focused on Holy Week, primarily Jesus washing the feet of the disciples.

One thought that really hit the way I've been contemplating the events from the Last Supper through the Crucifixion is the notion of Jesus' gentleness.

Gentleness is often thought of as weak or passive, which doesn't really sit with the actions of Jesus.

The definition that Catherine found for "gentleness": "Strength under control."

Puts a whole new spin on the trials and the cross.

Just my thoughts,

Sean

And All Manner of Things

My homework for small group this week was to look up Lady Julian of Norwich.

She was a 14th Century mystic – a lady with visions, who wrote them down becoming the first woman to write a book in the English language.

The doctrine and revelations were a bit askew from church doctrine (including that of today), but she got away with it. You see, she was an anchoress, meaning that she lived 24/7 in a tiny cell in the church.

She even gave up her name -- Julian is the name of the church, and Norwich the location.

Apparently that level of devotion earned you a bit of respect, so you could talk about G-d’s love being all about joy and compassion rather than the more trendy law and duty, and the church doesn’t slap your hand.

I could quibble with her theology myself, but since I can't get through lent without candy, I'll give the lady walled up in a church for decades a bit of latitude.

The cell for anchoresses had a rule – they needed three windows that opened. One into the church so she could hear mass; one to her servant (even an anchoress has got to eat); and one to the outside, so she can give advice to any who ask for it.

Imagine a “The doctor is in” and “5 cents” plastered to the wall outside, and you get the picture.

This is where the “anchor” in “anchoress” comes from (next week we will discuss who put the “ram” in the “ramalamadingdong”) – she wasn’t to be isolated from the world, but anchored to it.

A life, really, of talking to G-d and to the people passing by.

Some quotes:

(Referring to G-d): “He is our clothing. In his love he wraps and holds us. He enfolds us for love and will never let us go.”

“God accepts the good-will and work of his servants, no matter how we feel.”

And her most famous line:

“All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.”

What can one say to that other than, “Well said.”

Just my thoughts,

Sean

Saltpeter, John (Pins, Abigail!)

I've got to block out some time to watch this miniseries -- JOHN ADAMS on HBO.


Several people have already told me how great it is; and my friend Amy is one of the producers on it.



Cynopsis gave a review -- and cynopsis doesn't review:



"IMHO: While there is much on television I enjoy watching and am entertained by, there is only a handful of programs/specials/miniseries that can truly be considered great television - Roots, War and Remembrance, Shogun, Planet Earth and I know there are others you'll add to your list. Add also the newest miniseries seen on television - HBO Films and Playtone's John Adams. One of the most compelling and riveting programs ever brought to television, and if we're fortunate, HBO Films and Playtone will continue with others from the David McCullough series. But that's just my opinion. "



Already have it on Tivo, now have to find time to view...



Just my thoughts,



Sean

A Movie's a Movie, No Matter How Great

I was hoping for Horton to hit – and it looks like I hoped not in vain. Here is a strong review, made even stronger by being in Suessian style.

Thanks to Jeff for pointing the way to this critique. (Congrats, by the way, on AURALIA going into it’s second printing. Wahoo!)

Looking forward to seeing the flick myself.

Also looking forward to this one:

Early buzz in strong – including whispers (just whispers mind you) of the possibility that a superhero pic might get a few acting noms next award season.

Yeah, I’m jazzed.

Just as jazzed for this guy:

Everything from the trailers to the rumor mill makes it sound like they did this one just right. I may find myself liking the movie even more than the comic book (Robert D -- you charismatic devil you).

So there’s one for Marvel, one for DC, and one for Suess. It’s a good time to be an adult who likes cartoons.

Just my thoughts,

Sean

I Think I Know What They Mean...

Sometimes I hear things and wonder, “I think I know what they mean, but really?”

Like the ad I’ve complained about in this blog before – the kitty litter that smells so fresh, they guarantee that your cat will not be able to find the litter box.

Really? As for me and my house, we want the cat to be able to find the box.

Today I heard a report that the hooker that was with the NY Gov is selling a music cd from her website. The reporter tagged with, “Who says sex doesn’t sell?”

Uh, I don’t think anybody says that sex doesn’t sell. In fact, it seems to be universally accepted that sex does sell.

There is a commercial campaign for a dating service that promotes itself with testimonials of people that couldn’t get on e-harmony, because e-harmony apparently has standards.

I get why the guy that is too skuzzy for normal society would use this other service, but really – is touting that this is where all the creeps are hanging out a plus for one’s business?

“If you don’t care about quality, date our members!”

Last night I heard a radio ad tagging with, “Prices so low, I can’t mention them on the radio.”

Really? The FCC is preventing salesmen from speaking their prices out loud?

I think I know what he means…

But really?

Just my thoughts,

Sean

Shakin' In Me Boots

Warning: This post is not for the faint of heart or weak of stomach.

In keeping with the gross-out standards set in Fear Factor, I expanded my culinary horizons last night by ingesting something that makes my wife shudder.

That’s right, I had a Cap’n Crunch Milkshake.

Product of Carl’s Jr, the dairy delight is, as stated, Cap’n Crunch cereal whipped up into a vanilla milkshake. For those who can’t get enough sugar by mixing the Crunch with plain old 2% milk.

It was an odd experience, in that it tasted like Cap’n without the Crunch.

I have to admit, it confused my brain. I would sip, my brain would say “Crunch!” but then my ears would be like, “What crunch?” and my brain would be like “Cap’n, duh” and my ears would be like “I don’t hear no crunch” and my brain would be like, “Huh, that’s weird.”

And then I would take another sip.

Not sure how I feel about it.

Sure, Cap’n Crunch is the second best cereal in existence – and it’s even nutritious when supplemented with fresh crunchberries. And the semi-liquid form gets rid of the question of left over milk.

But still, the crunch is an important factor in the experience. And without the Crunch, one is left with just Cap’n, which brings up the whole question of lax authority on this guy’s ship – his crew doesn’t even have to address him by the formal, full “Captain.”

Nah, we need the Crunch, just for discipline’s sake, if nothing else.

So I think I come down on the side of, “one try for the novelty factor is enough.”

And wait for the Lucky Charms shake to come out.

Just my thoughts,

Sean

If Harvey Were a Cat

Purely on the random side:

Friend Jason put me on to this hilarious weirdness: imagine the already nuerotic Jon from the GARFIELD comics as so lonely that he is losing touch with reality.

Then take existing Garfield cartoons, but cut out Garfield and his lines.

And you get Garfield minus Garfield.

Personally, made me laugh more than Garfield with Garfield ever did.

Just my thoughts,

Sean

Saul Wars

Friend Holly sent this on.

For the Star Wars fans -- an alternate take on the opening credits.

Watch the top one first -- then for those who question Lucas' improvements to the original movies, go back for the second set of credits.

Just my thoughts,

Sean

Red Sky at Night...

For those of you wondering if the Gaffney boys look alike, here is a pic of my baby bro for your comparison pleasure.

Note: the photo was taken without any filters, camera manipulation or post shot alterations -- this is a result of a Mid Eastern sandstorm, which turned the sky blood red.

Yep, I see the family resemblance.

Just my thoughts,

Sean

Odyssey in Ulysses Part Three: Calypso's Kidney Stoned

The further adventures of one man trying to read James Joyce’s Ulysses

Later: Jack and Heather both convince me to try something new: listening rather than reading. A group called librivox has volunteers recording themselves reading public domain works, which one can download for free.

Since I have a teaching gig that will require regular commuting for a week, I give it a try.

The first chapter I listen to was clearly read in a pub. People drinking while reading Joyce aloud. Not a bad idea.

Three things that work better while under the influence:

Surgery (as the patient, not the doctor)
Pink Floyd’s The Wall
Ulysses

Ahhhhh….

Later: I figure out that Stephen, the guy I grew to like in the first part, isn’t the hero of the book. Rather some guy named Bloom is now center stage.

So that’s why Bloomsday book is called that – since the whole book is one day in the life of Bloom. Apparently the Irish celebrate Bloomsday once a year, by drinking and visiting spots from the book.

Mostly by drinking. See above.

Later: Back to my method – don’t worry about understanding the nuances, just track the situation.

Bloom is making breakfast – I’m good.

Bloom is shopping for kidney – I’m good.

Bloom is sitting on the john – I’m go… What?

I rewind the tape. Yep, our protagonist is on the potty, thinking grand thoughts.

I feel like I’m violating some personal space here. Like I should run the tap or something.

Hey, I joke with the best of them about the lack of privies on the starship Enterprise, or the curious fact that Jack Bauer seems to be able to hold it one day at a time. But there is such as thing as tmi in entertainment.

Bloom thinks on, as I can only wonder if Joyce coulda cut thirty pages from the opus just by having a Reader’s Digest in the men’s room.

Just my thoughts,

Sean

Juno Walking

My small group is reading Madeleine L’Engle’s WALKING ON WATER for the next couple of months.

For our homework this week, Catherine is making us write about Madeleine’s concept of “cosmos in chaos.” The idea (which she borrows from Leonard Bernstein) is that the artist creates order or harmony out of the bedlam of the world.

Madeleine wants to define all art as cosmos in chaos, while acknowledging that some artists “look at the world around them and see chaos, and instead of discovering cosmos, they reproduce chaos...”
Her conclusion: “As far as I can see, the reproduction of chaos is neither art, nor is it Christian.”

Here are some of my thoughts on the notion of “cosmos in chaos”:

1) Agent Maxwell Smart works against Kaos and for Control. Not sure that counts as an endorsement.

2) DC Comics has a slew of heroes that work for Order and villains that work for Chaos. The books make a point of claiming that there is no “good” or “evil” – just order or chaos. Or, to be more precise, order/chaos supersedes the smaller notions of good/evil.

Interesting.

3) The independent small movie JUNO was more popular at the box office – by 200% and counting – than the movie that won the Oscar for best picture.

Jon Stewart made the crack at the ceremony – with all the hopeless and depressing movies this year, “thank the Lord for teenage pregnancy.”

I think the appeal of JUNO goes past its breezy air and witty dialogue. I think that there is something in that little movie that fulfills a deep audience want.

And it isn’t just the politics of the thing. Both pro-life and pro-choice advocates have been claiming this movie as their own.

And it isn’t an issue of artistic quality or flair. Debate the cinematography of NO COUNTRY or the soundscape of THERE WILL BE BLOOD over the editing of JUNO – and you won’t get anywhere near the audience.

No, I think it has to do with cosmos in chaos.

Face it, all the Oscar best pic noms are set in worlds of chaos. Even JUNO, teenage pregnancy, divorce, marriage falling apart, and – yikes! – high school. On a personal level, that’s more chaotic than facing the killer after me for running off with a suitcase of money. (I hate it when that happens.)

Yet JUNO finds cosmos in that chaos – harmony – hope even. Love within anger and disappointment; family within separation; connection within disengagement.

It takes a journey from the unwanted to the wanted.

I think I can see why someone might resonate with that.

So, Catherine, my assignment is complete.

Just my thoughts,

Sean

Why Lil Abner Ran So Fast

Bit of Leap Year history for Cynopsis:

This day in History: 1288 - Scotland established this day as one when a woman could propose marriage to a man. In the event that he refused the proposal he was required to pay a fine.

Interesting...

Originality

Courtesy of Creative Screenwriting Weekly:

"Even in literature and art, no man who bothers about originality will ever be original: whereas if you simply try to tell the truth (without caring twopence how often it has been told before) you will, nine times out of ten, become original without ever having noticed it."

– C.S. Lewis

Ulysses Odyssey, Part Two: Nestor's a Pester

Later: I’m working my way into the book now. Slow going.

The book is made up of random thoughts as this guy, Stephen, wanders around Dublin. The idea is that Homer’s ODYSSEY, the story of Ulysses trying to get home after the Trojan War, provides the thematic skeleton for Joyce’s book.

Wandering thoughts as a wandering character emulates a wandering hero.

Homer’s version had his hero fighting monsters. Joyce’s book has me fighting the urge to hit myself on the head with my hard cover copy.

But I persevere: Jack, the smart cookie that leads our book club, says the goal is to just get through this one. I muster on.

Later: My version of the book doesn’t have chapters. No mini-markers – just three parts for the whole novel.

I can’t tell where on a page I left off reading; unsure even while re-reading if I ever read that section before.

I briefly wonder if there is an Illustrated Classics comic book version. That sure helped me get through Conrad when I was six. To this day I talk to people about LORD JIM as if I read the book.

Later: Breakthrough! I take Jack’s advice to heart, and give myself a break. I am no longer trying to understand the book, but rather give myself points if I know what the characters are doing while they are thinking their profoundly unfathomable thoughts.

Hey, he’s swimming! Give myself a point.

He’s teaching a class! Goooooal!!!!!!!

He’s uh, he’s uh, crap, I don’t know what he’s doing… Aw, blocked shot.

Later: I find that in not trying so hard, I’m actually getting more out of the book.

I stumble across this quote: “History, Stephen said, is a nightmare from which I am trying to awake.”

I like it.

Later: Reading at my sister’s house. I try a passage on my niece.

“Glorious, pious and immortal memory. The lodge of Diamond in Armagh the splendid behung with corpses of papishes. Hoarse, masked and armed, the planters’ covenant. The black north and true blue bible. Croppies lie down.”

She just looks at me with that face of exasperation reserved for when I try jokes that she has clearly out grown. She tells me to quit making stuff up and come play Apples to Apples.

I comply.

Later: Victory! I finish part one.

Sure, part one is eighty pages into a millennial of sheets; but I don’t pull out the calculator for this one.

There are three parts to this book; I am done with part one; therefore I am a third of the way through the book.

No amount of math is going to take that victory from me!

Now for part two…

To be continued.

Just my thoughts,

Sean

"The Shiny Guy Always Worries"

Thanks to Kitty for pointing out this concise summary and critique of STAR WARS: A NEW HOPE.

Enjoy.

-Sean

Odyssey in Ulysses, Part One: Telemachus Schmalamachus

E.B. White once said, “I don’t know what is more discouraging, chickens or literature.”

I don’t know what he meant, but I bet he was talking about James Joyce’s ULYSSES.

My book club decided to tackle the Joyce epic, spreading it over two meetings and two months. Here is my journey in attempting to read the classic.

The start: I go to the library to get my copy of ULYSSES. I am very proud; we’re not even going to discuss the book until two meetings from now, giving me seven weeks to read what all the other poor saps will be cramming into only four weeks. I am so on top of this puppy.

I look through the various versions, trying to gauge which has the better scholarly material in the foreword. I then include scholarship, opting instead to take the volume that has the pretty ribbon attached to mark the pages. I know the signs of a classy book, I tell you.

I fully expect the check out person to stop and remark at my apparent genius. “Why, yes, I am reading Joyce. Harumpf.”

She doesn’t even make eye contact with me. Maybe it’s because I also picked up a copy of the Plastic Man graphic novel – the one where he arm wrestles with himself while steam pours out of his ears.

Later: I keep the book by my bed. It looks awfully thick. I will start reading soon.

Later: The meeting before the meeting where we discuss Joyce has come and gone. I realize that my book is overdue. I should start reading it soon.

Later: I fan through the book. 1,003 pages. Yowza. Okay, start to read. I notice that with the title page and other frou-frou, the book actually starts on page five. I go to the office to get a calculator. I’m already point zero zero five percent done with the book, and I haven’t started reading yet!

I type 7734 into my calculator, and turn it upside down. I giggle at my naughtiness, and decide I’ve done enough work for one day.

Later: Started reading. Have no clue what is going on. Some guy is shaving while saying things that must be awfully clever. Lots of religious stuff. I come across the line, “I only remember ideas and sensations.”

Apparently true of Joyce, and incomplete sensations at that. Lovely. I may need help.

Later: At the used bookstore. Bob was singing the praises of THE NEW BLOOMSDAY BOOK: A GUIDE THROUGH ULYSSES. It explains everything, he says. I initially scoffed – I don’t need someone holding my hand through a book. Now I am hoping the bookstore has a copy, as the library didn’t.

The bookstore owner – who has always looked down on me with the disdain of someone’s whose reading of McSweeney’s shouldn’t be interrupted by someone wondering where the ZITS cartoon collections are kept – nearly leaps over his desk when I ask about the book. He pushes me down an aisle, cackling on about his hope that he still has a copy on the shelf.

As he pours through the books, digging into the second row, scouring, I learn why he is excited. The last copy he had sold for nearly $200.

I try to muster the courage to tell him to stop looking, as I came in hoping that one might be in the buck fifty bin.

But I like the feeling of being in the club that traffics in intelligentsia, so instead I pray that he doesn’t find a copy.

He doesn’t; I promise to check back daily to see if one came in. And mourn the fact that I won’t be coming back to this store any time soon.

Back to the book; I’m on my own again.

TO BE CONTINUED.

Just my thoughts,

Sean

Shoulda Waited Until Monday

Omar Poppenlander points out:

“What?! You mean I did better in my Oscar predictions this year than the Gaff-man? I had Bardem, Cotillard and Tilda Swinton in the acting categories and I picked No Country as Best Picture.Oh, but wait, I saw most of the films. Which ones have you missed?”

Hey, Omar, it’s not like I didn’t warn y’all. Of the films in the major categories, I have seen: Juno, No Country, Sweeney Todd, Into the Wild and Away from Her.

Pretty pitiful for a guy that works in the movie business.

And pretty pitiful guessing this year. My predictions and results:

Best animated feature: RATAOUILLE. Got it.

Supporting actor: Hal Holbrook. Wrong, oh well. I’m still voting for him.

Lead actress: Julie Christie. Wrong. After I made my predictions, someone who saw LA VIE EN ROSE pointed out that anyone who saw it knew to vote for Marion Cotillard. I haven’t seen it yet, so I didn’t know.

Supporting actress: Cate Blanchett. Wrong. (In my office betting pool, I put money on Tilda Swinton, which goes to show you how wishy-washy I am.)

Best leading actor: Daniel Day Lewis. Got it.

Song: ONCE. Got it. And a special class-act award goes to John Stewart for giving up his stage time to allow Marketa Irglova to come back on stage and give her heartfelt thanks.

Cinematography: ASSASSINATION OF JESSE JAMES. Wrong.

Art and Costumes: SWEENEY TODD. Half got it, half wrong. Costumes went to Elizabeth.

Makeup: LA VIE EN ROSE. Got it.

Adapted screenplay: NO COUNTRY. Got it.

Original screenplay: JUNO. Got it. (For those out there that forget that I am still a writer despite working a day job for the man, I did get both writing categories correct. So there.)

Director: NO COUNTRY. Got it.

Best picture: MICHAEL CLAYTON. Wrong. I even pointed out that best director usually means best picture. And No Country had screenplay as well. But I couldn’t get past the ending to make the smart prediction.

Which is a real bummer because I missed the office pool by one category.

Overall, I didn’t do as poorly as I thought I would. 8 out of 14 on the blog; 12 out of 24 for the office pool.

(I missed sound editing on the office pool, which means I also missed sound mixing. Hint for y’all for next year: sound editing and sound mixing ALWAYS goes to the same film, because no one –in the industry or out – can tell the difference.)

Now to go out and see the movies, to find out if I’m angry about who won…

Just my thoughts,

Sean

Oscar Grouch

I suppose I should make my Oscar predictions before Sunday night; although the temptation is to wait until Monday morning. I’m usually pretty good at predicting them on Monday…

Truth be told, I haven’t seen that many of the contenders – not enough to have an accurate prediction. So I anticipate going from a near perfect score last year to a perfectly disastrous score this year.

Despite having no idea what I am talking about, I am going to make my predictions with the bold confidence of a time traveler.

Best animated feature goes to RATAOUILLE, no question. (Only category I feel truly confident in.)

Supporting actor should probably go to Tom Wilkinson, from all accounts (haven’t seen his movie, shame on me...). Javier Bardem is a favorite as well, but maybe too understated for an award.

But the award will go to Hal Holbrook – his performance was truly wonderful, worthy of an award, and he is in the sunset of his career – time to take home a statue.

Julie Christie made me ache in AWAY FROM HER, so I am going to say she is taking home best leading actress. I’m probably wrong though, since the performance wasn’t big, and Oscar likes big.

Blanchett is not going to get her statue for ELIZABETH, so instead she will get best supporting for I’M NOT THERE. Caveat: most people didn’t get NOT THERE; and even more didn’t see it, so the back up is Tilda Swinton in MICHAEL CLAYTON.

Best leading actor: Tommy Lee Jones had a nice year, but he is so consistent, not enough folks realize how hard he works. It would be nice for Clooney, but people still have trouble taking him seriously (they should). So Daniel Day Lewis takes home the statue this year.

Song: ENCHANTED splits itself, allowing ONCE to win for all the numbers that didn’t get nominated.

Cinematography: ASSASSINATION OF JESSE JAMES

Art and Costumes: SWEENEY TODD

Makeup: LA VIE EN ROSE

Adapted screenplay: NO COUNTRY was a hard adaptation to try and pull off. It wasn’t completely pulled off, which is why the flick is going to just miss getting best picture. But it will get best adapted screenplay.

Original screenplay: Hard to call. If RAT wasn’t animated, it would be in the running. I think this is JUNO’s award – way too popular to not get anything, and its going to miss directing and best pic.

I already said that NO COUNTRY is going to miss the big ring, despite the oddity of winning best director. Usually that is a sign of the big prize.

Best picture? 3:10 TO YUMA wasn’t even nominated, which is too bad.

Folks will want it to be NO COUNTRY, but they really didn’t succeed in pulling off that last act, so that will sway the vote. (Yeah, sure, it’s beautiful in all its unresolvedness, but since the show could end at any point in act three without anyone noticing a difference… there is a fine line between beautiful and giving up).

JUNO is the popular favorite, but perhaps a little too SUNSHINEy.

So the number three choice is going to slip in and win the big one: MICHAEL CLAYTON.

Just my thoughts,

Sean

Heads Travelling Through Time

Here’s a few insights to the world of writing:

1. Friend Scott sent this link to Sci Fi Weekly – with an article addressing the Spec script.

And more specifically the Spec script for television.

And more specifically the Sci Fi Spec script for television.

2. Speaking of Sci Fi, here’s a thought on SARAH CONNOR CHRONICLES.

For those watching the show, we’ve been faced with inconsistency in rules (excuse me, but the metal head can NOT travel alone through time, duh). But the biggest inconsistency is character.

River… oh, uh, I mean Cameron (the machine played by Summer Glau) first appears in Ep 1 masquerading as a hot high-schooler, and fools everyone.

By episode 2, the robot seems to have lost all her blending programming; and now much of the show and character development is her acting all roboticky and trying hard (unsuccessfully) to fit into the same situations she so easily mastered in episode one.

So, what’s going on here?

Did the writers’ brains got messed up when their own heads traveled through time?

Is Cameron faking not being able to fake in order to fake out John so she can foist leadership skills by forcing him to teach the faking Cameron to fake?

My theory (no insider knowledge, just a theory): the business of Hollywood got in the way.

Here’s the deal: the first episode was the pilot – written and produced before knowing whether there would ever be an episode two.

Often the studios will want changes between the pilot and the rest of the series. Plot clarifications, actor adjustments, character tweaks – or complete character changes.

Nurse Hathaway famously died in the ER pilot – until her character pre-tested well enough to require a rewrite.

The Bionic Woman had a deaf sister in the pilot, until the big brass decided that such a sibling would make the show interesting, and they were intent on the show being incredibly dull.

In my two examples, rewrites (and reshoots) happened before the airing. Most times, if the changes aren’t considered significant, the pilot airs as is, and the changes are implemented in episode two.

Not a big stretch to imagine a producer thinking, “What I loved about Arnold was how he had to learn to be human. Let’s put that back in there!”

And away we go.

Just my thoughts,

Sean

ps Not sure that I disagree – a robot learning humanity adds an element to the show that has some advantages. What do you think?

Aw, Grow Down!

A little while back, novelist Daniel Quinn tried his hand at writing a graphic novel. He teamed up with artist Tim Eldred, and produced the fascinating book, THE MAN WHO GREW YOUNG.

You know the theory that since the Big Bang the world has been expanding – and someday will stop expanding and start contracting back to the Large Boom?

The graphic novel takes the idea that not only will space contract back, but time itself will go backwards, with history repeating itself in reverse.

The story starts at a graveyard, as a father and son excitedly go to the cemetary – they have visited many times, but now they will finally meet the wife/mother as she is brought out of the ground.

That’s the norm – everyone starts life as an adult, coming out of the ground; they then grow young until finally they are reunited with their mother.

Factories suck pollutants out of the air; construction workers take down buildings; miners return ore to the earth – all of which seems natural and normal to the people.

The protagonist is Adam Taylor, a man who doesn’t seem to be aging in any direction; ultimately, he will live across the eons to see the end/beginning of time.

Lots of interesting and cool stuff in this trippy story. But one in particular that I want to highlight:

Towards the end of the book, a woman retells the story of the creation of man. Much like we know the tale, Adam is in the garden and has access to all trees save one. The gods explain that all the trees are good for him; but this tree is the one that they eat from – the one the gives knowledge of good and evil.

Here’s a paraphrase of how they explain it: Whenever good is done to one creature, evil is done to another. So when they give Adam the deer for food, that is good for Adam, but evil for the deer.
Or when they allow the deer to escape, that is good for the deer, but evil for Adam.

The “knowledge” is what allows the gods to decide what is to be done, so they never make a mistake.

Adam craves this knowledge, because then he can make sure that only good is done to himself, and evil is done to all others.

After eating of the fruit, Adam creates society based on the knowledge, a society of “good” for Adam. All the while questioning whether this is truly good, or if the fruit made him sick (the gods liken it to eating grass – you can eat it, but it won’t nourish).

Interesting, thinks I.

Just my thoughts,

Sean

Best Department Store Website Ever!

Friend Ram put us onto this one. Made me giggle like a fiend at work.

When you go to the website, don't do anything, just wait for it... (have your sound on)


http://producten.hema.nl/
Hema is apparently a Dutch department store with some 150 outlets in Holland, Belgium, Luxembourg, and Germany...and one truly inspired Web deity!

Just my jollies,

Sean

How to Avoid Books...

Now that the strike is over, time to be thinking in terms of what to Tivo.

Here’s the skinny, as far as I have heard:

CSI: MIAMI, SUPERNATURAL and NEW ADVENTURES OF OLD CHRISTINE are all coming back with episodes starting in the next few months. I mention these first because I have friends working on them who need to be re-employed. Wahoo!

Also back with spring shows (that I’m looking forward to seeing again): CRIMINAL MINDS, 30 ROCK, THE OFFICE, HOUSE and BIG BANG THEORY.

LIFE and CHUCK, two of my favorite freshmen, have been renewed, but they are going to make us wait until the Fall for new episodes. HEROES also lands in the “wait to see” category.

No word yet from ABC, so we have our fingers crossed still for PUSHING DAISIES to make an early return.

Cath and I are both rooting for an ELI STONE / PUSHING DAISIES crossover, so we can have Victor Garber and Kristin Chenowith duet together.

Wouldn’t that be lovely?

(If you haven’t seen STONE yet, check it out.)

Oh, and while waiting for new television, check out this movie trailer. Now I want to see the full movie done in Legos.

Just my thoughts,

Sean

The Cat in the Hat

Close the office door.

Crank the volume.

Sit back... and enjoy.

http://movies.yahoo.com/feature/indianajones.html?showVideo=1

"You're a teacher?"

Wait for it, wait for it...

"Part time."

Ah, he's back.

Just my thoughts,

Sean

Just My... Hey, Get Out of My Thoughts!

On Facebook, there is this application where you can find out your superpower, and then use it to attack other people.

My nephew Grant is attacking me all the time; he has mind reading ability. So I keep getting e-mails saying that he has read my mind and learned all my secrets. Of course, I attack back.

My power is also mind reading, so when he reads my mind, I just turn right around and read his.

Which got me to thinking, if I’m reading his mind after he’s read my mind, pretty much all I should be getting is him thinking my thoughts, right?

So now I know all of my secrets! (Apparently my secrets are pretty boring.)

Hold on, if he’s reading my thoughts, and I put my thoughts into my blog, isn’t he really just reading my blog?

Is “blog reading ability” really a superpower?

You ever read that comic with Superman, where he’s trapped by Luthor, and Luthor says:

Luthor: You can’t ever escape my super kryptonite killing machine! All your super-strength is gone!

Superman smirks.

Luthor: Why are you smiling?

Superman: You seem to have forgotten my other power. I can read blogs!

Luthor: Drat! Foiled again!

Okay, maybe not.

I think I need a more offensive defense against my mind being read.

Here’s my plan: when Grant is in the middle of a Bible History class, and the professor calls on him to explain why the list of Nehemiah’s buddies that worked on the wall included some chick named Bunni twice, and then…

…I’ll think the dirtiest thoughts I can come up with. And Grant, being telepathically linked to me, will blush, and blush, and blush…

Now I just need a dirty thought. Anyone know the one about the Rabbi and the Farmer’s daughter?

Just my very readable thoughts,

Sean