Wired's Very Short Stories

Apparently inspired by a 6-word short story penned by Ernest Hemingway ("For sale: baby shoes, never worn."), Wired Magazine asked a bunch of writers to submit their own 6-word masterpieces. Some of the results are brilliant, others hilarious. Here's a sampling:

From torched skyscrapers, men grew wings.
- Gregory Maguire

Gown Removed Carelessly. Head, less so.
- Joss Whedon

Longed for him. Got him. Shit.
- Margaret Atwood

Wasted Day. Wasted life. Dessert, please.
- Steven Meretzky

It’s behind you! Hurry before it
- Rockne S. O’Bannon

Kirby had never eaten toes before.
- Kevin Smith

TIME MACHINE REACHES FUTURE!!! … nobody there …
- Harry Harrison

Bush told the truth. Hell froze.
- William Gibson

Dinosaurs return. Want their oil back.
- David Brin

Will this do (lazy writer asked)?
- Ken Macloed

Cryonics: Disney thawed. Mickey gnawed. Omigawd.
- Eileen Gunn

Bring On the Horror Flicks!

Halloween has always been my favorite holiday. I love everything about it -- the change of seasons, the sudden crispness of the air, the pumpkin carving, the creative jack ‘o’ lanterns, the scary movies, the limited edition goodies like little candy corn-flavored pumpkins...I could go on. It's just a rockin' good time.

When I was a kid, I loved to go trick or treating. As a teenager it was all about the costume parties and haunted houses. Now I just love to sit around and watch horror films and all those retrospectives like "The Top 100 Scariest Movie Moments." I don’t always love not being able to sleep after a night of bingeing on horror, but overall it’s worth it. Come to think of it, that’s part of the fun.

It’s only mid-October but already some good stuff is starting to pop up on cable, and last night I stumbled across one of my very favorite Dracula flicks -- the 1979 John Badham version starring Frank Langella and Laurence Olivier (!). Now granted, this is not a film for Dracula purists. It's not faithful to the book, the names of the two heroines are switched (god knows why), and Dracula is repurposed from a hideous blood-sucking fiend to a romantic hero of Byronic proportions. Still, the movie really works. Maybe it's the creepy 70s film stock where everything looks really washed out, but damned if the movie doesn't look like it was really filmed in the Victorian era. The score was composed by John Williams (y'know, the Star Wars Theme guy), and it's arguably one of his best -- super dramatic and vampy and over-the-top. Also, the cast is pretty damned inspired. Olivier is the perfect Van Helsing – sad, weary, yet determined. Kate Nelligan is great as the beautiful, headstrong, progressive Lucy that Dracula falls for. Donald Pleasance is excellent as the obligatory man of science and Lucy’s skeptical father. Tony Haygarth is one of the creepiest, bug-eatingest Renfields I’ve ever seen. And, as long as you can get past the disco-era blow-dried hair, Langella is absolutely arresting as Dracula. He’s arrogance, lust and pathos all rolled into one.

Sure the movie is bursting with fromage, especially the “visual effects,” (screeching bat puppets on a wire? Check.) but this is a vampire movie made in the 70s, people! The cheese is part of the charm. If you’ve got cable On Demand, check it out.

Tonight, I’m moving on to “Scream.” Boo!

Maui? Wowee.

Just returned for a 5-day sojourn on the lovely island of Maui, and I have to say it definitely rates as one of my BEST.TRIPS.EVER.

Despite the fact that I'm still jet-lagged and also seem to have contracted a raging case of tanorexia while abroad (If one more coworker says, "Where'd you get that tan!?" I'm running to the dermatologist), the Aloha Spirit is still coursing through my mai tai-drenched veins.

Last year we went to Kauai, which, while wild and jungly and beautiful, wasn't really the sun, surf and sandy beaches I had envisioned. Maui, however, fit the bill perfectly. It also didn't hurt that we lucked out and got upgraded to a much pricier condo than we could have afforded -- it was the off season and I think our resort had rooms to spare. In fact, the "room" (really more of a condo which included a deck and kitchen) was so nice that we didn't feel much of a need to go out and spend a lot of money at night. We mostly just hung out, pet the feral kitty who suckered us into daily helpings of fresh fish, listened to music, and watched a bunch of YouTube videos (oh yeah, we're that dorky).

I've had some requests for highlights, so here they are, in pretty much random order:

- Snorkeling off the coast of Molokini and seeing a bunch of sea turtles, including one that came up for a breath about 2 feet away from us
- A condo on the beach
- mai tais and lava flows
- sleeping late on the king sized bed
- swimming, swimming, swimming
- the weather - it was perfect
- the beaches - it was like the Hawaii you imagine as a kid

...And a couple of lowlights:
- The fuckin' road to Hana. Half the waterfalls didn't have any water and I felt sick for hours on the windy road.
- Hana itself - what a sad, bedraggled little town. I had the lamest veggie "sandwich" I'd ever had in my life, which consisted of a hamburger bun, half a slice of cheese and some mustard. I wish I'd taken a picture.

I Heart "I Heart Huckabees"

(*spoilers below*)

Albert Markovski: I'm talking about not covering every square inch with houses and strip malls until you can't remember what happens when you stand in a meadow at dusk.

Bret: What happens in the meadow at dusk?

Albert Markovski: Everything.

Mrs. Hooten: Nothing.

Albert Markovski: Everything.

Mrs. Hooten: Nothing.

Albert Markovski: It's beautiful.

Tommy Corn: It's beautiful.


This movie came out in 2004, and I can't believe I've only now discovered it. That's what I get for relying too much on critics.

It's by no means a perfect movie, this little existential gem. In fact, I recently described it to someone as a lovely but manic mess. The main characters' motivations are a bit unfocused at times, and one narrative thread in particular just sort of unravels into nothingness (which may or may not have been the point). Not perfect, no. But very sweet and loony, very genuine and memorable.

It's funny to me that some people found this film overly philosophical or hard to follow. True, it's somewhat chaotic, but the underlying story is really quite simple. On the one hand we have the Jaffes - our existential detectives - and their happy, sunny philosophy. Just crawl under this blanket and recognize yourself in the infinite and everything will be all right, because everything is connected.("When you get the blanket thing, you can relax, because everything you could ever want or be, you already have and are.")

On the other hand we have Caterine and her dour, fatalistic, very French nihilism. Nothing matters, nothing is connected, life is pain and darkness and suffering. ("Sadness is what you are, do not deny it. The universe is a lonely place, a painful place. This is what we can share between us, period.").

And then we have Albert the depressed environmentalist ("What am I doing? What am I doing? I don't know what I'm doing.") and Tommy the disillusioned firefighter ("I'm not a hero. We'd all be heroes if we quit using petroleum, though."), who are caught between the two extremes and just trying to figure it all out. There's really nothing particularly heavy here. Just some very funny, sharp dialogue, physical humor, and fantastic performances. David O. Russell really knows how to tap into the absurdity of life without his films feeling overly pleased with themselves (I'm lookin' at you, Wes Anderson).

What I love most about this movie is the idea that someone you have nothing in common with, someone you may even hate, can become knowable to you if you find that the two of you share a common experience. I love the idea that you can suddenly see yourself in that person -- even become that person, the moment you are able to glimpse their humanity. And so Albert sees his nemises, shallow, golden boy Brad Stand who secretly fears he has no real identity outside of his corporate image ("How am I not myself? How am I not myself? How am I not myself?")in one moment of suffering, and he instantly relates to him. After all of his searching and confusion and angst, that connection takes Albert out of himself and allows him to see the bigger picture. And, at least for a moment, everything is all right.

Too Beautiful for Me?

Just a little 'ole list of some famous people whose purported beauty/hunkiness I just flat out don't get. Either I'm seriously out of step with modern notions of beauty, or these folks just pay their publicists really, really well. To wit:

Jessica Alba - Often touted as one of the most beautiful women in Hollywood. Wha-huh? Looks like a tanorexic soccer mom in training.

Jessica Simpson - I'll quote my sister's Brazilian friend Fernanda, who succintly described her brother's girlfriend thusly: "Too stupid. Too Barbie."

Keira Knightly - For god's sake, woman, EAT SOMETHING. I know it's a cliche at this point to talk about the weight of women in Hollywood, but I can't look at her without gasping. You know why her cheekbones look like that? Malnourishment.

Cameron Diaz - Needs a healthy cycle of Proactiv.

Tom Cruise - Short, phony smile, ugly.

Usher - Looks like a homely little kid playing dress up.

Anyone else? I mean, other than everyone else.

Temporary Template

I just couldn't subject you to my "handmade" (i.e., hideous) template anymore, so I'm using this one as a placeholder.

It's actually surprisingly hard for a non-techie type to create a template on one's own. There are plenty of sites that offer blog skins designed by novices, but half the time there's some design glitch that turns all your images upside down, or you lose posts while trying to apply it, or the template only works when your writing in Sanskrit.

This Blogger template is nice enough, but I'd rather have something unique (According to Roger, that's pronounced "yoo-knee-cue"). Anyone wanna design me purty a template? I'll take you out for drinks or edit your grad school essay or dance at your daughter's wedding, or..or..or...

My Hero

What's that you say? Oh, heavens no. I have really bad allergies, all those pollens, and...and molds, they make my eyes water. Also, I had something in my eye earlier so it got a little red and irritated. I'm fine, really. Do you have a Kleenex?

Joss Whedon's Equality Now Speech

Depressing.

List of Republican Celebrities

Dear Comcast DVR: I Hate You.

When Roger and I moved into our new place earlier this year, we were dismayed to discover that our Tivo had to go. As our apartment resides in a very old building with no phone jack in the living room, Tivo was no longer a viable option. We signed up for Comcast Cable's DVR, which we heard was capable of recording two programs at the same time (a wonderous feat even Tivo couldn't yet perform). We felt pangs when we installed our DVR, as it wasn't nearly as cute or user-friendly as our dear departed T, but we thought it might wind up being an adequate -- maybe even superior -- replacement.

Boy were we wrong. The Comcast DVR, or "Commy," as some call it, is one hot mess.

Commy, here are just a few of the reasons why we hate you:

You're dumb. Even when we program you to record a particular show, you often just forget to do it. It's not that the show isn't high enough in our queue of series recordings; at times it's the number one show. You're just dumb and you forget. So thanks for that.

You're slow. I admit I like to pause a lot during programs. I need to pee, or get some water, or harass the dog, or some such other normal human activity. You don't seem to like this. I'll push "pause" and you won't pause. I'll press "pause" again - still nothing. So then, out of mounting frustration, I randomly start mashing multiple buttons, hoping something will wake you from your stupor. Suddenly, you'll realize you've been sitting on your flat ass, not doing your damn job, and decide to comply with my requests all at once. Pause! Pause! Stop! Play! Exit! Last! Guide! Menu! Delete! DELETE! Mayhem ensues. You're whirring frantically. Aborted commands flash across the screen willy-nilly. Maybe you're contributing to global warming. The debacle usually ends with the deletion of some saved program I was really looking forward to. Fun!

You're a hypochondriac Twice last week you shut off in the middle of a show. No warning - just kaput. I think you were overheating as it was a really hot day, but Tivo survived many a scorcher last summer with nary a complaint. So I missed the last 5 minutes of two shows I was really into, and now I'll never know how they turned out. We actually had to put a mini-fan on top of you to keep you from overheating, which works, but is patently ridiculous. So yeah. Thanks, ComCrash.

You're high maintenance. Every time one of the above problems occurs, the good people at Comcast advise us to unplug and replug you so you can reset your delicate little self. We are advised to leave you alone for 30 seconds so you can unwind.("Walk away, take your shoes off, get a drink of water" was the advice of one perky service gal). Apparently you need to "unplug" and have some quiet time in order to function properly. Who do you think you are, Scarlett O'Hara? Get over yourself.

I hate you, Commy, but right now you're our only option. I think this is one of the most dysfunctional relationships I've ever had. Are you some sort of karmic retribution for our rampant technological consumerism, or just a really sucky, poorly designed product that was rushed to market way too quickly? I'm thinkin' both.

Brazil nut

Last Monday I returned from a one week trip to Brazil, where my family and I went to visit my sister Jessica. Jess is doing a junior-year-abroad type program and is studying Portuguese in a big, smelly, urban sprall of a city called Belo Horizonte. My sister says that if Rio is like L.A., and Sao Paulo is like New York, then Belo Horizonte is like Pittsburgh. Yes, I visited the Brazilian Pittsburgh. Still, it was an amazing trip. Outdoor markets, sidewalk bars, fantastic food, oh yeah. We also spent a couple of days in a beautiful hillside mountain town called Ouro Preto, which more than made up for the relative fug-factor of B.H.

Here's me in Congonhas, on the way to Ouro Preto.



Jess and mom in O.P.



Panning for gold at an abandoned mine



Best. billboard. ever.

Can You Hear Me Know?

Apparently Verizon is making a play for that elusive telepathy market now. At any rate, I'm so not buying a phone here.

I suck!

See, I knew this would happen. I knew if I started a blog that at first I'd be all into it and put up a whole bunch of posts one after the other, but then eventually I'd get lazy and more and more time would elapse between posts, and ultimately my blog would be like one of those lameass personal homepages from the late 90s that had a little stick figure in a construction hat cheerily digging beneath the words "Under Construction, Please Check Back!", except you'd check back, like, 6 months later and the exact same image would be there.

So, here endeth my lameness (at least for now). Please don't hit me. I didn't mean to make you angry. You still love me, right? Right?

The LookSmartest Guys in the Room

A couple of nights ago the Rog and I watched the documentary “Enron: The Smartest Guys in the Room.” It was an excellent film—sort of a period piece (is it okay to refer to the Internet boom of the 90s as a “period” yet?), a morality tale, and a psychological study all rolled into one.

Some might find this a little far fetched, but I couldn’t help but be reminded of my 5 ½ year stint at LookSmart, my first and possibly last foray into the World ‘O Web. No, LookSmart didn’t swindle thousands of people out of millions of dollars, or cause utterly unnecessary power outtages in California, or stash unfathomable debt in mock corporations while its stock price went up and up and up—I’m definitely stretching a metaphor here. But there are some similarities. For example:

• Both Enron’s and LookSmart’s top executives were charismatic, visionary and idealistic. They sold their employees a bill of goods without a sustainable business model, and everyone drank the Kool-Aid.
• Employees at both companies became obsessed with the rising stock price and the possibility of becoming rich. (At LookSmart, we were routinely told by managers that we’d all be able to buy houses soon).
• At both companies, the promise of untold riches ultimately served to corrupt the young workforce. Greed, arrogance and outlandish behavior became the order of the day. Social Darwinism thrived.
• Both companies ultimately imploded under the weight of their bloated excesses. (Technically LookSmart is still around, but it’s barely breathing.) Massive layoffs ensued and a lot of people are still in serious debt.
• A handful of former executives of both companies managed to sell their massive shares before the stock made a precipitous nosedive, and then simply disappeared. (I’m looking at you G$$). I’m convinced there’s some unmapped tropical island where thousands of top dog refugees from failed Internet companies are sunning themselves decadently while succumbing to the last stages of cirrhosis of the liver.

I could go on, but I think you get the picture. Now, that’s not to say that there wasn’t a lot of good that came from the LookSmart experience. I, for one, learned a lot, grew up a lot, had a shitload of fun, and met some truly amazing people, several of whom are now some of my dearest friends. But man oh man am I glad it’s over. For a lot of those poor, former Enron employees and their families (I’m not referring to the worst of the day traders here—they can rot in hell), it’ll never really be over. The company simply ruined their lives.

So rejoice, former LookSmartians! We escaped, and we live to tell the tale.

Best. List. Ever.

So much copious word to this:

The BEAST 50 Most Loathsome People in America, 2005

Some choice tidbits:

On Tom Cruise: "Cruise is a perfect example of a person who is simultaneously in love with and completely unfamiliar with himself, living in perpetual fear of self-actualization, and asserting a legal right to live free of criticism."

On Nancy Grace: "Looks like a camel in drag."

On Michael Brown: "A man of geological indolence, Brown makes lichens seem dynamic."

On Karl Rove: "Rove is decidedly not a genius; he is simply missing the part of his soul that prevents the rest of us from kicking elderly women in the face."

Good times.

TyrantMail

Lovin' McSweeney's spoof of "Tyra Mail" from America's Next Top Model.

Tyra Banks is a blithering idiot, but she's lucked into a really engaging show. Still, I can't help but think it would be that much more entertaining if the models - or "sticks with tits" as a friend of mine calls them - had to face shark infested waters, prison, and God's wrath instead of the usual gamut of silly challenges.

Got Me Good

Remember your creative writing teacher who forever admonished you to show, not tell? Well, if you're still trying to silly putty your brain around that one (I know I still am), go see Brokeback Mountain. This isn't melodrama, friends. This is art.