TV Small Talk, Robin Meade and Noah's Love Boat

I don't know why this is really bugging me today but I have been catching the last two or three minutes of local news all day just before the programs I was watching and its amazing how terrible news teams are at the small talk banter they have to do when they need to kill a few seconds before the commercial break. Weather men are pretty good at it but the sports guy looks like a racoon caught in the headlights and the over achiever news women acts like she never made small talk before in her life. Does she really believe she got the job cause of her skill as a reporter? She got her job cause she managed to charm some higher management type long enough to get him to take his eyes off her breast long enough to imagine that she would sleep with him cause he was SOOOO charming and funny. So why can't she FAKE it for ten seconds with Skippy the failed athelete and Fatty the weather slug...I mean my cat can shmooze the mailman for the ten seconds they meet every weekday. It hurts to watch and it never gets any better no matter how long the news team has been together. Don't these people interact off air...around the donut cart? The makeup room? Can't we see a little of that humanity that you usually save for that perfect storm or that oh so unbelievable goal. I mean I try and I hate people...but I have people SKILLS. To find someone who really gets the small talk and is beautiful to boot check out Robin Meade on Headline News. She raises the level of not only the banter but is a solid reporter and newcaster.

Speaking of which...I was talking about religion today with somebody in anticipation of Bill Maher new movie Religulous. I am a huge fan of Bills. Real Time is one of the weekly shows I HAVE to download. I appreciate his intelligence and his practical, HONEST approach to the issues of the day. He can spot a hypocrite from ten miles away and there is nothing better than seeing him skewer someone trying to peddle their baloon juice and usually its some religious nutjob or republican dimwit. The movie explores religion and all the issues that brings up and I like the fact that Bill asks the questions and challenges the people that take the Bible LITERALLY (one of my own pet peeves...drives me insane when I see or hear peoplel like Elizabeth Hasselbeck on the View...I guess pretty doesn't always mean smart)...like Noah lived 9o0 years and collected two of every animal... including the thousand of species of insects... and THEN got ythem all to mate??? And tell me this what happen to the dinosaurs? No room for them? And how did they keep the carnivores away from the herbivores? What did you pack gazzels for the cheetahs to eat? And who did you choose which two to bring with you and which went into the freezer? LOOKS???? PERSONALITY..I know...you held a contest like American Idol and the two Wildebeast that sang the best or did the best magic trick got the spot on the boat. INSANITY!!!!! The person I was talking to came back at me with the arguement..."Well, what is you are wrong? What if there is a God?" Hey...If I am wrong about there being a heaven then its a pleasant surprise for me. I have a feeling they are gonna be alot more let down expecting there to be something waiting for them after death. "Ah shit! And I was so SURE." Its like expecting presents at Christmas and then being told that your family converted to Judism that morning. And believe me...getting a draddle sucks. And its the certainty that amazes me. We aren't uneducation manure farmers in ancient Palestine anymore. The time for cute little fairly tales is over. Time for all the hillbillies to stop holding social progress back. Stop looking for the odd phrase in the Bible to justify your homophobia or prejudice.

The Shit Knife

The Inuit didn’t fear the cold; they took advantage of it. During the 1950s the Canadian government forced the Inuit into settlements. A family from Arctic Bay told me this fantastic story of their grandfather who refused to go. The family, fearful for his life, took away all of his tools and all of his implements, thinking that would force him into the settlement. But instead, he just slipped out of an igloo on a cold Arctic night, pulled down his caribou and sealskin trousers, and defecated into his hand. As the feces began to freeze, he shaped it into the form of an implement. And when the blade started to take shape, he put a spray of saliva along the leading edge to sharpen it. That’s when what they call the “shit knife” took form. He used it to butcher a dog. Skinned the dog with it. Improvised a sled with the dog’s rib cage, and then, using the skin, he harnessed up an adjacent living dog. He put the shit knife in his belt and disappeared into the night.

Bat Caves and Mysteries.

I just found my new favorite show of the new year...The Metalist...awesome detective drama about a former tv psychic who uses his powers of observation to solve crimes. The show has an interesting back story involving the psychic and a serial killer who killed his family which gives the whole thing an over arching sadness that reminds me in many ways of Batman and his story. Patrick Jane does what he does not because he can but like Bruce Wayne he does what he does because he HAS to. He is tormented by one moment in his life that set the pace for everything that came after; a percieved failing that he can never correct and can only endure. The serial killer targeted his family because of a glib comment he made on a morning talk show. Like Bruce Wayne whose decision to take the alley shortcut left him without parents Patrick's arrogance left him without a family thrusting both into a world of pain and madness. His talents which once he easily used to enrich his life are now the one thing that keep him a step ahead of madness and despair and if he can use those gifts to ensure that no one else has that "one bad day" like he did then maybe his life can have some purpose. Its especially heartbreaking when we see at the end of the premier that he sleeps in the same room that his family was killed in...that the killers happy face calling card (much like the joker's card) is still on the wall in his house furnished only by the lone matress that is on the floor. I spent most of my life wishing to be a character like Batman and I see lots to admire in the Mentalist. I see myself as a detective and I take special interest in watching mysteries where I use my conciderable powers of observation to solve the crime every week. But that is just fantasy. If I was a billionare I would dress as a flying rodent and save the day despite the fact that I know such fiction doesn not have any basis in reality. My unfullfilled purpose. Like my father who had the misfortune of being a soldier during the cold war I live in a small central Alberta town with little real crime worthy of a sharp analytical mind like mine. Am I evile for wishing for a Joker of my own? Don't answer that.

Death to Caruso and Long Live GOOGAM...SON OF GOOM!!!!

I have decided today to stop all my worrying about the end of the world (which I can almost taste on the cool fall winds) and talk a bit about the new television season. One of the many things I hate most about my forced solitude is having no one to really shmoooze with about television which you all know I concider to be man's greatest invention (well next to flush toilets and clumping cat litter) I mean look at all the shows, all the stupid and bizarre ways that we have found to entertain ourselves; the bread and circuses of modern life. (500 channels??? Baby I vote for more!!!) Already I realize that I must watch Dancing with the Stars all by myself (pennace for some act against the Gods) and have spoken about that show already. This week has been particulary memorable for all the death and near death that have occured to characters I have grown accustomed to see. Monday saw the fake out death of David Curuso on CSI Miami. Lets all be honest here...if any one death of any one character in the history of TV needed to go to nearly unannamous agreement it would have to be him. He is the worst actor in the history of the medium and makes Mr T and George Pepard of the A-Team look like Shakespeare. And the way they faked his death and endlessly pitched the season premier is an insult to me and all other mouthbreathing shut ins. So for that reason I refuse to let that show take up one more minute of my life. Sorry Emmily Proctor....you got on the ship now I have to let you go down with it baby...not that I won't shed a tear for you but I won't be throwing you a life preserver either cause you just know Caruso will find someway to latch onto it and if the fact that his ginger skin tone hasn't melted his face off in that harsh caribbean sun then I have little faith that anything can kill off that guy. Tonight I had the choice to watch the two hour premier of Grays Anatomy or Survivor Gabon. You would think that after the hour death match that was the end of Dr Pratt on ER that I would have an easy choice to make. Just to show you how much I loath the direction the whiners of Greys have taken that show I chose Survivor because watching the worst traits of humanity come out in all its gut soothing glory actually made me feel like I was doing something to enrich my soul. Rock Bottom you say...HA....its only week one. Scripted human drama as opposed to mostly scripted human drama and as you know I DO love watching the gay survivor or the gay big brother when he starts to cry. Got nothing against the choice a guy makes but their is NO crying in baseball for a reason and NO crying in the jungle for the same reason. Suck it up buttercup and I don't mean that literally. But you know something, if Fringe(which better not go all "Lost" on me), The Sarah Conner Chronicles (with my most fav badass/rock siren Shirley Manson of Garbage as the sexy liquidy T-1000-eeeeeeeeeeeeee) and Knight Rider (Val Kilmer as KITT...mmmmmm boy!) keep up the energy of their early episodes I actually have hope for this year. Mythbusters, Intervention, The Cleaner, Dog the Bounty Hunter, The Daily Show, The Soup, NCIS, Saturday morning superhero cartoons and my Law and Orders can't do all the heavy lifting.

OJ, Obamma and the End of Days

Its days like today that I wish I was on a tropical island totally unable to immerse myself in the news of the world or popular culture. Just sitting on the white sand beach under my palm leaf umbrella with my girl servant Tuesday watching the mushroom clouds rise in the distance. Not sitting here hugging my knees while rocking back and forth watching the same mushroom clouds in my mind. I remember back when OJ killed Nicole and that whole week after was full of developments nearly by the hour. The whole world seemed to stop and that was all that anyone was interested in. That week I was teaching in Beaverlodge and we had taken all the jr high kids camping at some christian campsite that allowed us to shoot at each other with arrows and paintball guns during the day but made us pay for the fun by having to hear about the "lord" around the campfire at night. There were no showers or radio or tv for that entire week. I knew nothing about what everyone was talking about and had no opinion to express. We came home on the Friday just in time for me to pick up a double pepperoni and mushroom pizza and enjoy the low speed white bronco chase. For the first time ever I felt left out of the "loop" which was always amoung my worst nightmares (along with zombies, aliens, robots, bears or the zombie alien robot bears). But lately I feel like I don't want to hear anything about anything; not about tainted deli meats (oh WHY must it be sweet sweet coldcuts???) or reasons why Obamma could lose the election (and officially crush what little hope I have for this planet) or that I had been wrong about the evile of republicans and their cariboo killing hockey mom with the slutty teen daughter (which I believe combine several of the signs of the apocalypse into one milf of a package) But I DO know what is going on and I can't just forget what I hear or see. The world isn't anymore screwed up than usual but somehow it feels like it is and I am the only one who sees the patterns forming. No superheroes or freaks of nature to set everything right again. And that just sucks cause I know tomorrow I will eat a nice dish of peaches (in their own light syrup) and forget that there is no hope left for any of us. And THAT is when the mummies and the vampires get ya. Well not the mummies cause I got a cat but you know what I mean.

I Could Have Been a SHUMKA Dancer!!!!

Monday September 22,2008 6:42 PM

Hope you are having a good week...please tell me you watch Dancing with the Stars...I need a snarky friend with no concern for the feelings of others to truly enjoy the show and Cory was the first one I thought of...that is actually a compliment...my mom lacks that venomous bile that my best Cory just DRIPS. Add to that that she is one of the funniest people I know and it sounds like a no brainer.

Cause truly there is nothing I personally hate more than male ballroom dancers who refuse to button more than one button on their shirts and who wear super stretchie polyester pants...now I could live with that visual as disturbing as that is but its the way they LIKE themselves so much which personally I find to be a real unattractive quality in a ballroom dancer. I mean we get it Johnny Jingle Hips...you are suave and oooooooze that oily latino charm but be a man and actually look at the professional female dancers (who are drop dead sexy) and stop hogging all the time in front of the mirror.

Of course any qualified medical professional would say that I am merely jealous of something I cannot do but I will have you know that I could have been a DANCER...I could have been a SHUMKA dancer (the ones with the red boots who jump high in Ukrainian folk dancing) but my parents deprived me of that opportunity. Now despite that missing chance I still am light and nimble on my feet like a ninja and since when am I not star enough to be on the show??? From the well of my bitterness I curse the ABC television network.

Introduction and The Mongols

Welcome citizens of Earth and dimensions beyond to my blog. Nothing like being on the cutting edge of a tread eh?

Frikkin Mongols....I am in the middle of watching Mongol the story of Gengis Khan and I can say without reservation that those mongols are sons a bitches for what they do to each other (henceforth to be know as the "screwgie"). And I grow impatient waiting for the Temugin's 80s style revenge that better be coming soon. These bastards really know how to hold a grudge but I understand that is what it was like in 12th century Mongolia. You would think they would be happy by inventing the sleeping bag but no. I mean the politics alone would make a guy crazy. One day you are Khan and the next day you are a slave. Even you own blood brother can become an enemy with little provocation. And never let it be said that the great Khan left the dirty 'wet work' to his underlings. He was the original model for the "hands on" style of management. His first lady Borte was no slouch either. I enjoyed the Lady McBeth aspects to her character and its proff positive that without a strong women at you side any throne you hope to hold will be as fragile as egg shells. Spartan King Leonidas (300) had the same advantage in his Queen, Gorgon.

I have great affection for asian historical dramas like House of Flying Daggers, Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon, Hero, and Curse of the Golden Flower. Makes a guy proud to be a historical asian (even though he's not one).