REMEMBERING JOURNALSPACE

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Looking for something else, I found this.  I don’t remember writing it, or posting it, but it reminds me of a strange, rarified experience that ended when that place just just seemed to evaporate one day.

On November 18, 2007, I posted the following silliness at Journalspace:

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I am sure by now all of the People of Earth are aware that the Screen Writer’s Guild is on strike.   The men and women who write scripts for your favorite television shows and movies are refusing to write anything unless they get a teeny, tiny share of the billions of dollars Hollywood producers are paid.

 You may see this as a terrible thing. How many reruns can the human mind stand? But I see this as my big chance to finally become a Hollywood writer. I am hoping that producers are desperate enough to seriously consider my ideas.  Here are some of them:

SURVIVOR CHINA/BIG BROTHER:  Takes place in a Mainland Chinese supermarket.  The contestants have to eat what they find there. The last contestant who doesn’t die of food poisoning, lead poisoning or from ingesting industrial solvents wins.

THE BIG STICK:  Imagine two people in a room. One of them is hitting the other with a big stick. This idea is a sure winner. Violence sells. Americans love violence.  And the best part is that it doesn’t require any writers. There is no script. Just a room, two people and a stick. Maybe a chair. Talk about your “high concept.”

THE JUDGE MANN SHOW:  Retired Judge Mann makes a statement, and for the rest of the show a panel of legal experts and mental health professionals debate whether the statement has a sound legal foundation or whether it is a manifestation of a psychotic episode.

THE PERSONAL HYGENE HABITS OF THE RICH AND FAMOUS:  Who doesn’t want to watch Jennifer Aniston, Angelina Jolie or Brad Pitt’s brushing their teeth?  I sure would.

THE PADRE CADRE:  Just like the Mod Squad from the 1970’s, but with priests.  A group of priests, rabbis and Imams secretly solve crimes, many of them supernatural in nature. The main characters might also have faith-inspired super powers, like walking on water, summoning forth locusts (to confound the bad guys) or moving mountains.

THE SENATOR AND MR. VIVA:  A California State Senator is forced by humorous circumstances to share a Sacramento apartment with “Mr. Viva” – a professional male stripper.  Even though the Senator and Mr. Viva lead very different lives, they are nevertheless united by their paranoid fear of Government surveillance.

MY THREE SONS OF SAM:  In this sit-com, a single father is raising three sons, each of which is a serial killer taking instructions from the talking family dog, Sam.  Hijinks ensue.

SHOOTIN’ UP!:  Three heroin addicts keep pursuing hilariously complex hare-brained schemes to get enough money for their next fix. In the pilot episode, the addicts impersonate the lost relatives of a dying rich old lady, only to learn after her death that she gave all of her money to her cat.  Each episode always ends back in the abandoned house where the show begins with the three addicts going into withdrawal as the audience laughs and applauds. Fade to black.

TALKING BEER BOTTLE ISLAND:  Something for the kids.  This show is just like Lidsville back in the 1970’s, except that the characters are talking beer bottles with personalities to match the kind of beer they are. For example, Lone Star is a Texan, Bud is king, and Sam Adams is an American revolutionary. Fun for the whole beer drinking family.

GASPAR THE FRIENDLY SKULL:  In this kid’s show, Gaspar is a friendly, disembodied floating skull. Gaspar is sad because all of the children are frightened of him and run away every time he floats up and says “hi!”  The show teaches tolerance for disembodied skulls and acceptance of Día de los Muertos festival activities.

Speaking of tolerance, there is a growing television market catering to homosexuals.  They even have their own cable television station – Logo (which is Latin for “logo”).  Even though I am not gay, I am confident I can write for this new, important television, underserved market. Here are some of my ideas:

OKLAHOMO!:   Brokeback Mountain revealed to the straight world how much gay people are fascinated with cowboys.  My idea is basically the exact same thing as the musical Okalahoma! except that the direction emphasizes the homo-erotic tension between Curly and Judd. As the audience watches the plot unfold, they slowly realize that Curly loves Judd and is pursuing the beautiful but clueless Laurey because Curly is in denial of his true sexual orientation.  The song lyrics “brand new state…plen’y of room to swing a rope!/ plen’y of heart and plen’y of hope” will take on a totally new meaning.

HOMOCIDE: Just like the detective drama Homicide but everyone in the show is gay – and fabulous.

GAYLIENS: Closely based on the classic TV sitcom My Favorite Martian. Set in the 1960’s, Uncle Martin is flamboyantly gay guy from Mars. Martin’s “nephew” knows it, but this being the ‘60’s, none of the straight people in the show realize it – even though Inspector Brennan often suspects “something is up.”

I am going to send these ideas to every Hollywood producer out there, and maybe, just maybe, I will get my lucky break.

However, in the meantime, I will heed my wife’s advice to “keep my day job.”

She never supports my dreams.

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Reading the foregoing – for the first time in nearly five years – was bitter-sweet.  Seeing what I was capable of only a few years ago was sweet. Talking Beer Bottle Island?  Could I be any funnier?  But concluding I am no longer the person who wrote this piece, that I’ve changed in five years, that my creative powers, the glee that bubbles up, or used to, doesn’t quite do that anymore left a very bitter taste.  I’m not the grinning imp I once was.  Heck, now that I think of it, I haven’t perpetrated a complex practical joke for  longer than I can remember.  When did I so thoroughly and unequivocally grow up?

Then I thought about it and decided that if I could revise the original I would add one more idea, one more perfect television show:

SAY YES TO THE MESS:

My wife watches three television programs I detest – The first is Say Yes to the Dress, a program that follows a bride on her quest to purchase a wedding dress. I admit the sales staff’s invariably successful attempts to massage the ultimate sale to a level higher than the family’s “budget” is interesting.  Anyone who has ever worked in retail sales would admire the skill used to squeeze more money out of bride’s family for what amounts to the purchase of something that will only be used once. But otherwise the program features people readily indulging in six of the seven deadly sins and watching it leaves me feeling unclean.

The second television program my wife enjoys – but that I hate – is House Hunters.  In this program, wealthy people who want to purchase a home consider three gosh real estate prospects, eventually arbitrarily settling on one of the three.

The third television program my wife enjoys – but that I find horrific beyond my ability to articulate – is Hoarders.  This television show is about people who accumulate so much “stuff” that their homes become unlivable – and often vermin infested.  They are “hoarders” living in their own private circle of hell devoted to their endless worthless possessions and broken refrigerators and freezers filled with rotting produce and meat.

Although I hate all three programs, I love the idea of combining them into a show with the working title Say Yes to the Mess.  Imagine a television program where hoarders go and visit the homes of other hoarders and consider swapping their disgusting homes for the disgusting homes of other hoarders.

I’d watch that show. Wouldn’t you?

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Yep. I’ve still got it.

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PICTURES FROM MY TELEVISION

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I love my iPhone, especially the camera.  It is easy to use and takes really good pictures.

So I tend to take a lot of pictures, and I take pictures of everything – even my television.

I don’t know how you watch television, but my television allows me to pause any program or movie showing on the screen.  So if I want to answer the phone, or get a beer, or any number of things, I pause the program, go do it, and then resume viewing when I am done.

My iPhone allows me to take photographs of the stilled image on the screen.  And I do because some of them appeal to me.

Here are some of the photos I’ve taken from my television over the last few months. If a person’s television viewing habits reveal anything about the person, then perhaps I am showing the world something I may regret.

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SOME PARENTS SHOULDN’T BE PARENTS

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“Pout, baby, pout! Give me all you got! Oh yeah… Yeah! That’s it. Now walk slower. No, slower….”

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At least they didn’t dress her up like a pot of honey.

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NEW FEATURE – “OMFG” (this week: Battlestar Galactica – Blood and Chrome)

Every now and then something comes along that makes you stop and say OMFG.

This is one of those times.

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OMFG!!!

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CAN’T. STOP. LAUGHING.

HEADLINE – VIDEO SHOWS FISH USING TOOLS

MUNCIE, Indiana –  Scientists have discovered a video showing Abe Vigoda playing the character Fish in the long running TV sitcom, Barney Miller, using tools.

“I always thought that, maybe, the Fish character could use a screw driver or maybe a socket wrench,” said Jon Gibson, a Barney Miller fan in general and an Abe Vigoda enthusiast in particular. “But who knew that Fish was also capable of using power tools like a drill or hand saw?” Gibson asked.

Source:   http://news.discovery.com/animals/fish-uses-tool-110929.html

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TOTALLY DIGGING GAME OF THRONES ON HBO

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I feel the need to start out clean and admit I have neither read the books nor intend on reading them.  And I am well-aware that the fanboys hate what HBO has done to their beloved ersatz Shakespeare fantasy.

But I’ve watched every episode broadcast thus far and feel very sure that the fanboys have their heads shoved deep within their singular and collective fanboy rectii.

Game of Thrones is a wonderful show and is some of the best television I’ve ever experienced.  It grabbed me from the very beginning and has me wanting even more with each chapter shown. It has become an event in my household.  I open a California pale ale and grow slowly buzzed as the show progresses.  And it is always, always, always over too soon.

I know what you’re thinking, especially Moko, Therbs, Barnes and the Rhino.  All of you are saying “oh, we know  you, Boylan, and we know that it is the proliferation of naked women that persuades you to overlook narrative flaws.

Yes, it is true that I have already expressed a favorable opinion about the series engendered solely by the plethora of buck naked women displayed in each and every episode. However, I have transcended this consideration.  This last episode included no naked women – none at all – and it was the best episode to date.  So shame on any of you for judging me so shallow and callous as to value a video experience merely for inclusion and depiction of naked women.

Which is always a plus. Seriously.  From a purely artistic and utterly intellectual frame of reference, there is no art – low, pop, or high – that cannot be improved with naked women. Especially attractive ones. For example, Roman Polanski’s Macbeth (1971) included naked women, but they were repulsive and did not really enhance the viewing experience.  Trust me on this. Repulsion may be what Polanski was striving for, but not what I pay precious money to see.  I adore my European brothers and sisters, but their appetite for repulsive imagery leaves me cold and confused.

 But I digress.  I am trying to say that, even in the absence of naked women, Game of Thrones is great television.  And I cannot recommend it more highly.

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Declaration of Sentiments and Resolutions – and Ray Gun Girls

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By now you know I kind of dig Space Chicks.

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In addition to writing substantively on the historical, sociological and geopolitical aspects of Space Chicks, my purely scholarly passion led me to become the worlds leading authority on subject.

Professor Boylan presenting a paper on Space Chicks at the University of Johannesburg, South Africa, in 2006

When I first determined the importance of Space Chicks as a pop culture phenomenon,  I soon observed that there is an important Space Chick subset that is best described as “Ray Gun Girls.”  Simply put, a Ray Gun Girl is a girl often, but not always, wearing a space suit in close proximity to a ray gun, often, but not always holding the ray gun.

Like Space Chicks in general, Ray Gun Girls first appeared on the cover of pulp magazines.

And when Space Chicks migrated from pulp novel covers to film and television, Ray Gun Girls began showing up there, too.

In all honesty, most Ray Gun Girl images are fetish driven manifestations of arrested male adolescent wish fulfillment, amounting to little more than soft core pornography.

However, as the years went by science fiction matured, and Space Chick images began to include strong, capable women who were fully realized heroic figures as complex and detailed as any male hero. As this happened, the images of Ray Gun Girls also evolved into something more serious and less sexist.

To me, the entire phenomenon is really quite fascinating. I don’t have the time or inclination to explore in this blog why there is such a driving interest to depict women holding ray guns.  The psycho-sexual implications alone would fill more space than I have to work with here. However, it is worth noting that the Ray Gun Girl concept is distancing itself from sex object utility and is increasingly being seen as a sign of feminist empowerment.

I’m taking the time here to provide you with the opportunity to judge for yourself.  Below is a gallery of Ray Gun Girl drawings and photos representing only what I was able to download in a few minutes before I gave up and went on to more serious business.  Nevertheless, this incomplete sample is the most comprehensive collection of Ray Gun Girl pics anywhere on or off the internet.

I present them in the order my computer imposed due to file title.

[If you don't see any gallery below, then you need to go back up to the top and click on the link entitled something like "The Ultimate Ray Gun Girl Gallery."

I take no responsibility for any offense that may result from anyone accessing and scrutinizing any of the photos in that gallery.]

The Ultimate Ray Gun Girl Gallery

To access an image, click on it. When it comes up, click on it again to see it in its full size.

A SHORT CONVERSATION WITH MY WIFE

So I was in bed last night watching television with my wife and we were discussing gun control.

There is no more divisive issue sui generis to the American experience and national psyche than the question of gun control.  I am often asked to appear as a guest speaker on topics touching on constitutional rights.  I always begin those talks by quickly describing my travels and experience living and working with people from similar and vastly different cultures.  Because of my exposure to different cultures I am very much aware of what makes Americans different from anyone else on earth. I also know that very few Americans are aware of that difference.

So I ask groups of people whenever I can what it is that makes Americans different and distinct as a culture.  It often isn’t easy for them to determine because they’ve never considered the question before. Most of them have never been more than 50 miles from where they were born and most of them live near people who look, talk and think the same way they do.

But eventually the Socratic method succeeds in helping my audience discover the truth – i.e,  that it is the rights we enjoy as Americans that makes us fundamentally different.  Americans experience a level of freedom no one else in the world can exercise.

Which prompts the inevitable follow-up question. I ask “What freedoms are uniquely American?”

The answer I get varies from audience to audience, but I am always surprised how often the answer is the right to bear arms.

Those who believe this, of course, are wrong.  The right to bear arms isn’t fundamentally or uniquely American.  The Taliban in Afghanistan believe the same thing and are willing to kill anyone who attempts to compromise their right to own and use fire arms.

I bring this up only to illustrate how important it is to own firearms to many, many Americans.  It is so important that millions of Americans value the right to bear arms above the rights of speech, assembly and movement.

I am not that extreme in my views, but I do feel the right to bear arms is an important right if for no other reason than it is expressly mentioned in the American Constitution.  My wife disagrees.  She believes that the American Founding Fathers’ viewpoint is important, but not controlling because time has made their worldview – their original intent – absurd.

You can see her argument best expressed here:

http://www.examiner.com/video

 

Gun control is a fairly hot topic, which is why my wife and I were discussing the topic while watching television last night.

The recent horrific shootings in Tuscon, Arizona are at the forefront of all of our minds. My wife is upset and believes Arizona should have more potent gun control regulations.  In the heat of our discussion she said “guns kill people.”

I was ready for that argument. “Blaming guns for killing people,” I retorted, “is like blaming spoons for obesity.”

I felt pretty good about that statement. It was eloquent and elegant, bordering on poetry.

We sat in silence a while, me feeling a bit smug, and then my wife said:

“Yeah, but if crazy people were running around killing 9 year old girls with spoons, I bet we would have some spoon control laws pretty quick.”

God, I love my wife.

Carthage Must Be Destroyed

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HEADLINE – FRITO-LAY ISSUES DORITOS WARNING

ST LOUIS – The Frito-Lay corporation is warning the public not to eat the new Doritos variety Extra Spicy Nacho Cheese Extreme.

“Look, I said to stay away from those things,” said Eric Paulson, Frito-Lay Vice President, hurrying out of his office with a box stuffed with personal belongings. “It’s not my fault. I didn’t know this would happen. No one could have known,” Paulson said as he ran off.

In response to Frito-Lay’s warning, the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) posted the following advisory on the FEMA website:

“Close and lock or barricade all doors and windows.  Close all blinds and/or window coverings.  Turn off all lights.  Move everyone as far from potential threat areas as possible.  Take cover behind heavy furnishings or structures. Stay down.  Do not open doors unless instructed to do so by FEMA or positively identified public safety personnel.

If possible, shut off building ventilation systems. If it is safe to do so, provide first aid and appropriate care for the injured or ill person.  Whenever possible, if blood, vomit, or other bodily fluids are present, avoid contact with these and use appropriate Personal Protective Equipment (gloves, mask, etc.).  Do not move seriously injured people unless movement is necessary to protect them from immediate, life-threatening danger.  Consider the possibility that injured persons may have been contaminated and take appropriate precautionary measures.”

“We will survive this,” said said Janette Hemply, Acting Frito-Lay Board President from an undisclosed location. “We will rebuild.”

“It’s in the trees!  It’s coming!” yelled an unidentified person behind Hemply.

Source:

http://www.walletpop.com/blog/2010/06/15/fake-doritos-coupon-warning-from-frito-lay/

Obama IS a secret Muslim!

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Anyone who believes that Barak Obama is a secret Muslim is an idiot.

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Anyone who thinks it matters what religion – if any – the President practices is a bigger idiot.

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Anyone who believes that Islamist extremists want to build a “victory mosque” at the site of the 9-ll World Trade Center (Ground Zero) is incapable of the minimal critical thinking skills necessary to be an active American citizen and should be forcibly sterilized and prohibited from voting.

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They also want englich proclaimed the ofishal langwaj

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DID I MENTION I DIG SPACE CHICKS?

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Of course I have. Over and over again. Since I came to this place I have freely expressed my appreciation for space chicks.  I have written scholarly critiques of new media, expressing dissatisfaction with this television program or that new film because the program or film didn’t have enough space chicks. Conversely, I have expressed my approval when a program or film featured the proper quantity of quality Space Chicks.

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But what, academically speaking, is a Space Chick?  Is it merely a woman in space?

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The first woman in space.

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Clearly not. The media has depicted many women in space, not all of whom can be properly classified as Space Chicks.  And, where life has imitated art, only one female astronaut can be properly considered a Space Chick.

Allow me to elaborate, elucidate, pontificate and fabricate (but just a little):

As I’ve discussed earlier in this blog, pulp magazines acted as the vehicle through which science fiction entered popular culture.  These pulp magazines – published from the 1920’s through the 1950’s – embodied the motto “sex sells” and so habitually featured women on their covers.  For example:

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With this marketing heritage it was only natural that pulp science fiction magazines would feature, as often as possible, images of women, often scantily clad.

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A Space Chick who apparently likes lollipops.

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These were the original Space Chicks – objects of amorphous adolescent male fantasy.  And, as objects of early 20th Century amorphous adolescent male fantasy, these space chicks often needed rescuing from monsters.

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Film, and eventually television, adopted the pulp magazine formula and expanded upon it. In the same way that producers began insisting that any science fiction project include aliens, they also insisted that Space Chicks be part of whatever awful film or television show they were going to finance.

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But something happened that differentiated Space Chicks from their non science fiction counterparts. Space chicks were often depicted doing more than simply needing rescue and being more than merely sexy.  The Women of Tomorrow were shown to be, not just desirable, but also fast, strong, smart, capable and brave as any man.

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Cinema and television imitated the pulp formula and began depicting Space Chicks that were not just sex objects, but also intelligent, confident and professionally accomplished -little realizing that they were part of a social and political revolution.

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When humans actually began poking a tentative finger into outer space, life imitated art.  The Russians were the first to put a woman into space.  Long before they did, they tried to let their people, and the world, know what to expect.

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Make no mistake: this is a Space Chick.  We can’t see the rest of her, and her space suit is undoubtedly too bulky to determine the attractiveness of her physical charms, but her mascara, eye shadow, false eyelashes and lipstick tells us that she is ready for action.

Reality did not meet this expectation.  The actual first woman in space looked like this.

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There is a rumor that persists to this day that she was really a man in a wig.

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In any event, she was no space chick.  The United States did better, but none of the women NASA put into space can be characterized as Space Chicks. Even zero gravity – which one would think, like beer, would make women more attractive – tends to make things worse.

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Lesbians seem to adore this photo. I have no idea why.

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There is one exception – Mae Jemison:

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She is more than pretty.  She is a medical doctor. She is strong, smart, capable and brave enough to ride in the space shuttle – a crapshoot against disaster every time its engines ignite. But even more important for the purposes of this essay, her cuteness survives zero gravity. Click on the following link to see what I am talking about.

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Mae Jemison

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That isn’t just a picture. It is a pose. But that isn’t what makes Dr. Jemison a Space Chick.  What makes her a bona fide Space Chick is that, after actually going into space, she appeared as a minor characer on Star Trek!!!

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Dr. Mae Jemision is the only women who is a media space chick AND a real world Space Chick!

How cool is that?

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MEET KAREN (again) [UPDATED]

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About a year ago, I asked all of you to go to a website devoted to the American cable television show Mad Men and vote for my dear friend, Karen, so that she could appear on that television program.  This is Karen:

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Please note the ankle tattoo. I will NOT entertain discussion of her “tramp stamp” so don’t even ask.  I’m looking at you, Barnes and Bondi.

I was at our favorite sushi bar the other day with Karen, her husband Gerald and their daughter Laney.  Gerald looks like this:

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Gerald is possibly the most interesting person I know, and I know a lot of interesting people.  He is the guy who wrote a program called Ethereal now known as Wireshark, a network protocol analyzer.  If you don’t know what that is, then you can’t say you know what is really going on.

Gerald and Karen’s daughter, Laney, looks like this:

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So we are sitting there chatting, catching up on stuff, when suddenly, and without warning of any kind, Laney gasps and says:

“I swallowed my tooth.”

Laney is very, very young, and is losing her baby teeth. Well, at the moment she was chewing on and swallowing a bit of California Roll, one of her lose teeth dislodged and went down with the food.

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The culprit.

Laney was very unhappy, but soon was eating with gusto again.

But Karen was not satisfied.

“That is Laney’s first baby tooth. I am going to get that tooth,” she said to me, her words oozing with ruthless determination. “You know me,” she said. ” I am going to get that tooth.”

The visual image was, well, rather disgusting.  Karen saw it on my face and attempted to reassure me.

“I am going to use gloves,” she said.

Using gloves was not really the point.  The concept of Karen rooting through Laney’s – well, you know – was the image that was revolting me.

“Well, okay,” I said. “But I want pictures so I can post them on my blog.”

“Okay!” Karen said.

So, stay tuned!  Pics on the way!

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UPDATE

Karen succeeded . Here is the tooth:

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Karen assures me that she “soaked it in bleach” but – from my perspective – that isn’t really an important point.

When all is said and done, that tooth has a heck of a story associated with it.  And although the details may be a bit unsavory, it really is an amazing story. And isn’t that what all of this is about?

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HEADLINE – TESTICLE FESTIVAL HUGE SUCCESTICLE

Photographer: Karen Combs 2010

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OLEAN, MO. – The Olean Festival Commission has declared this year’s Testicle Festival to be most successful testicle festival in the 17 years that Olean has hosted a testicle festival. “Attendance this year broke all prior attendance records,” said Gunther Haas, the primary organizer of this year’s Testicle Festival. “People traveled from as far away as Henley to participate in the testicle themed festivities.”

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Good, clean testicle related fun.

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In addition to the many testicle related food items being offered, this year’s Testicle Festival featured a Testicle Festival Parade, a Testicle Festival Pancake Breakfast, with testicle shaped pancakes and free testicle shaped balloons for the kids, and a testicle eating contest.

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A number of testicle-themed rides and educational exhibits also contributed to this year’s Testicle Festival’s unprecedented success.

“We got a roller-coaster called the Testicle Express that is sure to give a thrill,” said Travis Jode, Honorary Mayor of Olean’s 17^th Annual Testicle Festival. “And for the kids we have a giant testicle you can walk through and learn all about testicles.”

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But the one thing that sets this year’s Testicle Festival apart from all other testicle festivals was the variety of testicles offered for consumption.

“Bull testicles are great,” said Sue Ellen Plavin, this year’s Testicle Queen.

“But you can get bull testicles at any testicle festival.  That’s where we’re different.  At the Olean Testicle Festival you can enjoy all sorts of testicles ranging from goat and sheep and pig and turkey to more exotic testes like squirrel, possum and frog, which I can tell you are simply delicious.  And I hear tell that somewhere around here you can score some kangaroo balls,” Plavin said and smiled. “I bet you can’t get kangaroo ‘nads at the Russelville Testicle Festival. No siree bob.”

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Good, clean testicle related fun.

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OKAY, SO I WAS WRONG ABOUT STARGATE UNIVERSE

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I just watched the latest episode of Stargate Universe, entitled “Sabotage.” If you haven’t seen it, you must. It was one of the finest pieces of science fiction I’ve ever seen.

My personal relationship with art is centered in recognizing balance.  In my view, all art embodies at least two kinds of balance: the first is the balance of the genre it is part of; the second is the balance unique to the particular work itself.

In general, the evolution of science fiction as an art form has been a struggle to achieve artistic balance.  The early science fiction of Jules Vern and H.G. Wells was beautifully balanced, partly because Vern and Wells were not science fiction writers. They were authors who used science fiction as a story-telling delivery mechanism.  It was the story that was important to these writers; science fiction provided the structure to tell those stories.

These early science fiction stories also benefited from the fact that so few people could read and write. Those who could were automatically better educated and cultured than those who could not and, consequently, Vern, Wells and those like them were part of a “high art” literary tradition.

Such status was short-lived. Industrial societies depended on mass education that included reading and writing, which became common even among the uneducated and uncultured.  And it was these great unwashed masses that began both writing and reading science fiction.  Through pulp magazines, Sci Fi moved from high culture to popular culture.

And what a load of crap gushed forth – garbage written by amateur hacks with no story sense and poor vocabularies, using science fiction as a means of adolescent male masturbatory  wish fulfillment that really couldn’t get very far past rocketing off to a place they might encounter space chicks needing rescue from bug eyed monsters.

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In other words, this pulp rubbish lacked artistic balance and focus.  If “ray guns are cool” is the reason a story is written, and if the writer lacks the talent, skill and educational foundation to reach beyond their fingertips, then the story is going to suck.

I believe that has changed.  Kim Stanley Robinson and John Birmingham are proof that SF has changed for the better.

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Robinson and Birmingham are serious artists who, like Vern and Wells, use science fiction frameworks to tell stories that resonate beyond mere fantasy escapist wish fulfillment. Their work is artistically balanced in the same way any good novel worth reading and remembering achieves artistic balance.

Science Fiction cinema followed the same progression from early greatness  - e.g., Fritz Lang’s early silent work -

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From Metropolis

to adlolescent escapism – e.g., the Flash Gordon serials -

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to artistically balanced, nuanced good works that are cinema first and science fiction second – e.g., 2001, Alien and 12 Monkeys.

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The same is true for science fiction television – from high art of the Twilight Zone –

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to the idiocy of the Adventures of Buck Rodgers -

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to the retooled, reimagined excellence of Battlestar Galactica.

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This new video excellence was only possible because the popular audience is older and smarter, and cable television makes it possible to reach a smaller, smarter audience and still be profitable.  Battlestar Galactica was not just an artistic success – it was a commercial success.

And nothing succeeds like success. All commercial successes spawn imitations. Those behind Stargate Universe want to repeat, if not exceed, the BSG‘s commercial success and they concluded the way to do it is to imitate BSG‘s artistic success – i.e., focusing on story, plot and character and complex themes that resonate emotionally and intellectually.

Which created a different balance problem: too much focus on story, plot, character and complex themes is just as bad as too little.

Stargate Universe‘s first season suffered from this imbalance, resulting in slow, ponderous, boring television.  For me this imbalance was so annoying that I actually watched the show only because I was hoping to witness some of the more boring characters die and the slowest, most ponderous story lines end.

Which is why this last episode so delighted me. It is a demonstration of perfect balance between plot, character, theme, special effects and action. It isn’t boring in the slightest and when it was over I wanted more and cannot wait to see the next episode.

I so hope this isn’t an aberration. I so hope this is a sign the series as finally found its voice.

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I WANT YOU TO PICK MY NEW AVATAR PHOTO

I’ve decided I need a new avatar photo.  This is the one I’ve been using:

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This is really a great photograph.  It is utterly cool in every way an avatar photo can be cool. But, despite how cool it is, no one has ever commented on it – which means no one gets it.

So it is time for Rotwang from Fritz Lang’s Metropolis to go,  but I don’t want to exert the effort of deciding which photo should be my new avatar, which means you get to pick.

I’ve narrowed the field down a bit.  My finalists are numbered below. Whichever pic gets the most votes will be my new avatar.

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REMEMBERING THE 2000 COMMERCIAL ACTORS STRIKE, PART 2

In Part One of this series, we encountered “Hello, Meteor!” – a commercial the Discovery Channel  (TDS) made during the 2000 commercial actors strike.  ”Hello, Meteor!” garnered critical and commercial acclaim.  This success encouraged TDS on to assign more of their non-actor office to star in other commercials, including the now classic “Hello, Mosquito!” shown below.

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REMEMBERING THE 2000 SAG COMMERCIAL ACTORS STRIKE

If you are anything like me, then every so often – when the winter wind blows clean and fresh from the north – you are overcome by nolstagia for the halcyon days of the 2000 Screen Actors Guild Commercial Actors Strike.

Ah, those halcyon days! – when men selling things on television had to do without actors because actors who acted in television commercials wanted more money for their labor, but the major studios wouldn’t give them more money.  And so they went on strike.

Commercials got made and were broadcast without professional acting, and sometimes the results were simply wonderful.

The Discovery Channel used accounting and technical employees to act in a series of commercials that have since become legend, the first of which I feature below.

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AHHH!!!   THE ATMOSPHERE!!!!  AAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!

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WHAT AMERICANS SOUND LIKE

As I’ve often mentioned (purely as a matter of pretense), I often lecture to non American audiences. With minor exception I lecture in English.

The noted internet social analysis and general media maven, Joseph Bleckman, sent me this link that shows what non English speakers hear when they hear Americans speaking.  It isn’t a very loving or kind parody, but it is pretty funny.

RESTAURANT REVIEW

Last Saturday my wife and I ate at Ming Tu’s – a restaurant located at 1158 “L” Street in Downtown Sacramento.  Ming Tu’s serves Asian” inspired” food in a casual setting.

Not affiliated with Ming Tu in any way whatsoever.

Many people have eaten at Ming Tu’s.  Some of them have written reviews that can be found at http://www.yelp.com/biz/ming-tus-asian-diner-sacramento.  For example, Karina of Elk Grove writes:

“I’ve been here twice – with coworkers and with friends.  The food is definitely an Americanized version of Chinese food, but far better than Panda Express. Love their Mongolian beef over brown rice.”

Moo N of Sacramento writes:

“I work a couple of blocks from here so I have had opportunity to eat here often.  Each time I have eaten here, I have been quite happy.  The teriyaki chicken with rice is my fave and I love the fried rice too!  I love rice so if you do too you should definitely partake ”

My dining experience was a little different from Katrina’s and Moo’s. My meal was not as good as theirs. So this is going to be a negative restaurant review.

Over the years I’ve written plenty of restaurant reviews, may of them negative, and when I write a negative review I spend a lot of time describing what I ate and how it was served. Then I complain a lot.

I feel this is a special case. The usual descriptions of the food and service and the usual complaining just wouldn’t be enough to properly express how I feel about this dining experience. So I’m not going to describe the food or the service. I’m not going to make fun of the owner’s funny accent. I am not going to mock the handicapped busboy.  Instead, I will simply describe what I did after I left Ming Tu’s.

After I paid the bill and my wife and I left the restaurant, I immediately walked to a nearby church and prayed that God would reach down with His mighty hand and, with a fist of divine fury, smite Ming Tu’s, crushing it down to the bedrock, destroying it utterly.

I know what you are thinking. You think I over reacted.  You are thinking: “Aw, come on, Paul. The meal couldn’t have been so bad that you would call upon the Creator of the Universe to smite those responsible. “

If you are thinking this, you are wrong.  You weren’t there. You didn’t pay good money for really bad Chinese food. It was so bad that I felt, and still feel, within my rights as a God fearing Christian to call upon the power of Almighty God to send down destruction upon Ming Tu’s and punish all those responsible for my mediocre dining experience.

Now you are thinking: “Okay, Paul, let’s assume for the sake of argument that the meal you were served wasn’t very good.  Is that sufficient reason for calling for divine retribution? Isn’t being served a bad meal at a restaurant a trivial reason for calling upon the divine power of God Almighty to smite those who displeased you?”

Not at all.  And if you think that, then you probably are not a Christian.

Or you might be a Socialist.

A Socialist Atheist, that’s what you are, if you think there is anything wrong with me asking God to smite anyone I don’t like or destroy any business that has provided less than acceptable service.

Every day, ordinary people from all walks of life call upon the power of the Lord to avenge them – often for seemingly trivial reasons. My own Aunt reads the Bible every day and goes to church every Sunday – and every single day she prays to Baby Jesus that her neighbor die of a heart attack.

Her neighbor is a liberal who plays that jazz music much too loud. And he voted for Obama. Who is a secret Muslim.

But I digress.  My point is that it is perfectly okay to call upon the power of God to right any wrong, no matter how trivial the wrong may appear. The Bible shows us that God responds in dramatic ways to correct what seem to be trivial wrongs.

For example, in 2 Kings 23-25, the prophet Elisha, who had a bald head, cast a “curse unto God” at a bunch of young boys who were making fun of Elisha’s bald head.  Now, you non-Christian, socialist liberal secret Muslims will say that what those kids did was no big deal.  Well, God didn’t think so.  In response to Elisha’s curse, God sent two female bears to kill forty-two of those boys.

So Elisha called upon the divine power of the Creator of the Universe to punish a bunch of boys who made fun of him. I am calling upon that same power to smite a restaurant that served me a lousy meal.  I honestly don’t see the difference. I fully expect to see a big hole in the ground where Ming Tu’s used to be when I next drive or walk by that place.

I’ll let you know if it happens.

INSULTS FROM THE LAND DOWN UNDER

I have been flamed (but not defamed, as you will see).  Over at the the Blunt Instrument, one of my favorite blogs, a gentleman who goes by the name of Greybeard said:

Mr Boylan: you Sir, are a vulgarian and a snob.

 

Now, isn’t that the nicest way of calling someone a jerk you have ever seen?  It is beyond cool. The gentility and elegance of that insult lifts it beyond cool to the rarely achieved level of cugat (as in “that is soooo cugat, dude!”).

ANOTHER LOOK AT STARGATE UNIVERSE

First, before I begin, I just want to say that, as I type this, I am listening to Lady Gaga’s Bad Romance and loving it.

I haven’t decided yet if the images she crafts are parody and/or satire.  However, even if her visual marketing is a bit repulsive, her music is unexpectedly very good.

Second, I want to mention Sarah Palin.

Her mere mention in this blog boosts my traffic tremendously.  Palin is at the heart of many google searches that lead the hapless, and unsuspecting, Internet surfer to this page – second only to searches for smiley faces.

Don’t ask me why, but thousands upon thousands of you out there access this blog using terms like “smiley,” “smiley face,” “smily face,” “evil smiley” and “evil smiley face.” If you are reading this, then the odds are you got here looking for an evil smiley face.

As for you who out there who found my page using google searches centering on Sarah Palin – and there are more of you every day –  please take my word for it that you won’t find any nude pictures of Palin here.

Not "nude" per se.

Nor will you find any photos or discussions or any jokes even remotely related to any of the following apparently popular search terms:

Sarah Palin feet

Sarah Palin feets

Sarah Palin shoes

Sarah Palin Girl Scout

Sarah Palin Girl Scout Hat

Sarah Palin bullet bra

Sarah Palin donkey

Sarah Palin naughty nurse

Sarah Palin dog collar

Sarah Palin smoking

Sarah Palin smoking cigarettes

Sarah Palin cheerleader

Sarah Palin cheer leader

Sarah Palin dominatrix

Sarah Palin dominetrix

Sarah Palin dominutrix

Sarah Palin Navajo sweat lodge

Sarah Palin sweet lodge

Sarah Palin colonoscopy

Sarah Palin nasal passage

Sarah Palin sexy

Sarah Palin sexy cyborg

These are not all of the search terms related to Sarah Palin that have lead people to this blog, but they are some of the most troubling ones.

Who are you people? Do you live anywhere near me? Because if you do, I am moving the hell away.  ”Sarah Palin nasal passage?” “Sarah Palin sexy cyborg?”  What on earth is going on?  Are you out of your piggy little minds?

Look, let’s cut to the chase: if photos of anything even remotely related to any of those search terms existed, then I would have posted them. But there aren’t any – at least not yet.  I fully expect that, once her political star sinks, as it surely will, she will attempt to cash in on her name and reignite her celebrity by “accidentally” posting a sex tape or nude pics the way Carrie Prejean did.

Just jam-packed with irony, both actual and potential.

The lure of easy money is the greatest weakness from which white trash suffers.

Just oozing with greed and white trash hubris.

I am utterly convinced that the continuing revelations about Carrie Prejean’s multiple sex tapes (self-shot) and porno pics are part of a liberal conspiracy to discredit attractive but stupid right wing ultra Christian women who hate homosexuals.

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But I digress.  I am really here to talk about Stargate Universe. I am a new participant on a blog hosted by the Brisbane Times and authored by John Birmingham, author of Without Warning and the Axis of Time series – all of which I enjoyed, have reread and highly recommend.

A really good read.

John’s blog is called The Geek and you can find it by going here. The Geek is devoted to issues designed to appeal to everyone’s inner nerd – i.e., questions centering on computers, technology and, lately, science fiction.  If you want to see what the Geek is all about, just sample the sparkling discussion by clicking here.

John Birmingham and premier tech geek and author, Orin Thomas.

Most recently in the Geek John has expressed his appreciation for Stargate Universe, a new series on the SyFi cable network.  Thus far I’ve based my criticism on the show’s lack of sexy space chicks.

Not appearing on Stargate Universe

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Also not appearing on Stargate Universe

 

But John’s recent opinion, the comments from some of his regular visitors, and the undeniable fact that the last SG-U episode was really very good, has forced me to get serious and explain why I am critical of the show.  What follows expands on the comment I left at the Geek.

To better explain why I haven’t liked SG-U until this last episode requires a short history of popular science fiction. In the beginning, science fiction was part of “high culture,” written by amazingly proficient writers like Mary Shelley, Jules Verne, Edwin Abbott Abbott and H.G. Wells (“the Early Masters”).

H.G. Wells. Wrote Sci Fi to meet women.

It wasn’t even called science fiction; it was, instead, referred to as  “scientific romance.” Then, in the late 1920’s in New York City, science fiction crept into pulp magazines and became popularized.  Lots of people read it, but, as literature, it was rubbish and even the best SF writers were, compared with the Early Masters, uneducated amateur hacks. But, like circus geeks who dream of playing Carnegie Hall, these pulp fiction hacks dreamed of critical recognition.

She considered herself an artist.

This desire for critical recognition for science fiction started a slow climb towards legitimacy – which required writers to display proficiency as well as imagination. Harlan Ellison was and still is part of this effort.

Harlan was a pensive young dude.

Unlike most science fiction writers of his time, Ellison began his career writing in the mainstream. In the 1950’s he wrote about youth gangs. In the 1960’s he wrote erotica.  In the 1960’s he began selling scripts for science fiction television programs like Star Trek and The Outer Limits.  These scripts were remarkably well written (Star Trek – The City on the Edge of Forever; The Outer Limits – Demon With the Glass Hand) and stood out as perhaps the best episodes of those series, garnering legitimate critical acclaim.

Ultra cool.

In the 1970’s Ellison became one of the leaders in the movement to legitimize science fiction. His own stories injected more mature themes into the genre – resulting in critical and commercial success.  His short story A Boy and His Dog – culminating with the hero and his pet eating the heroine – was produced as a movie.

Ellison’s efforts to improve science fiction were inventive.  Way before the rest of the world became aware how language colors perception, Ellison attempted to remove the stigma associated with science fiction by insisting I be referred to only as “speculative fiction.”

Ellison was part of a movement that raised the bar on what to expect from science fiction.  These efforts brought big benefits:  over the years that followed, Sci Fi writers slowly died out and have been replaced by writers who incidentally employ science fiction concepts and constructs.  This is not a trivial change.  Writers today – such as John Birmingham – are writers first, serious about the craft of writing. Science fiction concepts and constructs are devices used to help tell the story.

Before the reform movement described above, it used to be the other way around: science fiction concepts and constructs took precedent over story. For example, more often than not, any given science fiction story focused on space ships, ray guns and, yes, space chicks.

Adolescent geek wish fulfillment realized.

The story itself was incidental to these factors. So now we come to Stargate Universe.  This new program results from the desire to legitimize science fiction and focus on story and not on ray guns or space chicks.

Not within the SG-U frame of reference.

That is SG-U’s strength, but it is also its weakness, because, in their efforts to inject real drama into science fiction, the SG-U writers and producers have forgotten who their audience is.

There is nothing wrong with well-written drama. What I saw last night on SG-U wasn’t melodramatic and wasn’t soap opera.  It was well written, well directed drama.  But those responsible for SG-U have forgotten that guys who grew up thrilled by space chicks and space battles make up SG-U’s audience.

Not a space chick, but she played one on TV.

Even the recent reinvention of Battlestar Galactica sprinkled amazing drama with the occasional amazing space battle – AND it included the occasional space chick.

That’s what kept us watching our television screens while really well written, well acted and well-directed drama took place.

Bertolt Brecht believed that literature and art should educate the viewer.  I believe that SG-U’s writers and producers are trying to educate the fan boys into appreciating drama. Or they have decided that BSG did the educating and now was the time to make the final transition from pop culture back to high culture. Either way, those responsible for SG-U were and are wrong.  The fan boys still want space battles and space chicks.  Drama is fine – especially if it is well written – but please remember who your audience is.  BSG succeeded because it emphasized story but never became dull.  You can do it, too.

Remember your audience.

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I CHANGE MY MIND ABOUT STARGATE UNIVERSE

I know I’ve been fairly critical of Stargate Universe.

I’ve complained about how it is too much soap opera

and not enough space opera.

but…

I am watching the latest episode of SG-U and I just got to the part where that guy from the spaceship switched bodies with the Lou Diamond Philips character and went back to his wife and she took him back and they were getting busy and then the body transfer reversed for a moment and that guy from the spaceship was back on board the spaceship and the Lou Diamond Philips guy was under the other guys wife and then the body transfer kicked back in and the first guy was under his wife again – and his wife was acting like she never got it that way before – which has to make her husband (the guy from the spaceship) fell a bit awkward – and the Lou Diamond Philips guy was back on on earth and asks “what the hell just happened?”

The Lou Diamond Philips character.

It was great!  I love this show now!

And there is even a chance fat nerd may score with the Senator’s drunk daughter!

The dead Senator's daughter.

The fat guy and an asian chick.

It’s back on. Gotta run-

MISSING BABY FOUND

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Little Shannon Dedrick’s disappearance caught the world’s attention.

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7 month old Shannon Dedrick

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The world breathed a collective sigh of relief when, today, Shannon was found in a box under the bed of her baby sitter – who had apparently abducted the infant.

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I am glad the ordeal is over for Shannon’s parents, but someone has to point out that their child is an alien.

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That isn't drool.

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Little Shannon is clearly a human/alien hybrid.  I am the last person on this or any world to so much as imply that there is anything wrong with that.  At one time some stygma might have attached to parents who gave birth to an alien baby, but recent high profile celebrity adoptions have removed much of that stygma.

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As a consequence, caring for an alien baby has become quite fashionable.

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Shannon’s parents must realize that raising a human/alien hybrid is a challenging, but ultimately rewarding endeavor.

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Every child is a special gift from God.

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For example, Shannon’s remarkably large head indicates that she will be telepathic.

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Knows what you are thinking.

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Telepathic children are unusually challenging because they know when daddy says “no” that he really means “yes” and when mommy says “just wait until your father gets home!” mommy really doesn’t mean it.

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Nothing but trouble

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As an alien/human hybrid, little Shannon is likely to develop the skill to levitate.

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Extra care is required.

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Like telepathy, the ability to levitate will be a job skill that employers will appreciate, but in the beginning, the parent of an alien/human hybrid must exercise extra care, such as making sure windows are closed at all times.

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Not good.

So, we are all glad baby Shannon is back, but her parents need to pay attention to her special qualities.

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“YOU LIE!”

JOE WILSON AND THE AMERICAN WAY

I want to talk to you about Joe Wilson, the guy who heckled Barak Obama by yelling “you lie!” when the president was addressing a joint session of congress.

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He looks retarded, but he is more than that.

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The liberal media has expressed extreme outrage over this incident, accusing Wilson of being everything from a boorish idiot to a racist.

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Victim of the liberal media

Don’t let that outrage fool you. What Wilson did is no big deal – especially when viewed through the lens of American history.  A congressman yelling “you lie!” at the president during a presentation to congress is not only a trivial event, the event itself fits well within the American traditions of political free speech.

The American Way

To begin with, allow me to remind you what it means to be an American.  More than anything else, being an American means having the constitutional right to speak your mind.  Many Americans take this important freedom for granted.  But those outside our great nation know how special and precious it is. During the great wave of immigration that took place near the beginning of the 20^th Century – the time my Greek ancestors came to this country – immigrants wrote home saying that the streets of American cities were “paved with gold.”

In a literal sense this wasn’t true.  But to people escaping tyranny, oppression and poverty, the freedoms and opportunities that came with merely walking on American soil were priceless.  Where they came from, no matter how hard they worked they could never hope for a better life for their children.  In America, men and women who are willing to work hard can shape their own futures.  In their homelands, these immigrants could be arrested and imprisoned for saying the wrong thing.  But in America they could argue in the streets and express their opinions freely.

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What the liberal media wants us to forget is that the right of free speech includes the right to get angry.  When Joe Wilson interrupted the President of the United States by shouting “you lie!” Citizen Joe was merely exercising his rights as an American and was taking part in a tradition that spans our nation’s noble history.

The American Founding Fathers were notoriously cranky, rude, angry men who openly hated each other.  Benjamin Franklin hated Thomas Paine. Thomas Paine hated George Washington. George Washington hated all French intellectuals – who, in a very real sense, gave birth to the American Revolution.

Alexander Hamilton and Aaron Burr hated each other so much they fought a duel – and Burr killed Hamilton with a bullet that pierced Hamilton’s liver.  Thomas Jefferson – the man given credit with drafting the American Declaration of Independence – made loud, unmistakable noises simulating flatulence – often using his hand and armpit – every time he encountered his political rival John Adams.  Adams never hesitated to accuse Jefferson of “preferring the company of young boys” and of stealing the design for the swivel chair from Nathaniel Swivel, a Boston furniture maker and brewer.

Nathaniel Swivel

As our republic grew and matured, so did the salty nature of American political discourse.  Martin Van Buren – our 8^th president – and the first American president born in the United States – won the 1832 election in a landslide.  But the Whig Party (now defunct) despised Van Buren and refused to recognize his legitimacy.  They spread rumors that he was born in Holland and that he was secretly a Quaker.

Quaker

In conjunction with this rumor campaign, the Whigs engaged in a rhetorical attack utilizing misleading vocabulary. For example, Winfield Scott – a Whig Party organizer – gave a speech in Buffalo, New York accusing Van Buren of vague charges that no one understood but everyone believed.  Scott is quoted as saying:

“In addition to the many crimes Martin Van Buren has committed against the American people as a whole – nay humanity – perhaps most disturbing, if not revolting, is the indisputable fact that Van Buren is a notorious masticator.   Reliable sources close to Van Buren – if that is his real name – confirm that he masticates at least three times a day, often in the presence of his wife. As monstrous as this may seem, Van Buren has also been known to vacillate on numerous occasions.  I put it to you that, not only is Van Buren a vacillator AND a masticator, he vacillates WHILE he masticates! The man has practiced vacillation and chronic mastication ever since he was a small child in Holland!”

These Whig tactics worked: the public turned against Van Buren, with many refusing to shake his hand for fear of where it may have been.  Whig congressmen and senators began pelting Van Buren with rotten vegetables whenever he spoke publically. The threat of violence became so pronounced that Van Buren would carry two loaded pistols whenever he addressed congress.

Packing heat

More recently, Republicans unhappy with Franklin Delano Roosevelt – a polio victim confined to a wheel chair – accused Roosevelt of being born in Norway and of secretly being a Free Mason. They would yell “cripple!” and “gimp!” during Roosevelt’s State of the Union addresses, pretending that they were sneezing.

He killed and ate this child.

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So, when seen through the lens of history, Joe Wilson’s yelling, “you lie!” at Obama during the the President’s State of the Union Address, or Arizona Governor Jan Brewer jabbing her finger into the President’s face while yelling at him, or even a reporter heckling Obama during a press conference, it really isn’t very important.

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This never happened when a white president was giving a speech.

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This would never happen to a white president, and never has.

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Perhaps they feel free to disrespect him because he isn’t white, so he can’t really be the president, so they don’t owe him any respect.

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 It is just part of the American way.

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HEADLINE – Ugandan gorillas join Facebook

Endangered Ugandan gorillas join Facebook, MySpace

By Rhappi Khanasta, Ass. Press Writer – Sat Sep 26, 10:53 am ET

KAMPALA, Uganda – Around 340 mountain gorillas — nearly half of the 740 remaining worldwide — have joined Facebook, Myspace and Twitter in an attempt to live it up before the end.

“I figured, what the hell?” explains M’bitah, a male silverback weighing 400 pounds (180 kilograms) who lives in Uganda’s lush Bwindi Impenetrable Forest National Park. “Maybe I can hook up with a willing female and have a little fun before I am shot, killed and eaten,” M’bitah said.

Despite their size — a male silverback can reach over 7 feet (2.1 meters) — the gorillas are threatened by poachers who kill them for meat, farmers and charcoal-burners who encroach on their habitat, and the indiscriminate bullets of rebels on the run.

“We Mountain Gorillas will probably be eaten into extinction within a year or two,” said Kampanga, a female adult mountain gorilla. “But I just got friended by five people on Facebook and 28 people responded to my tweet about scratching my stomach,” she said. “How cool is that?”

“We support efforts to include gorillas within internet based social networks,” said N’kita “Ernie” Ruzigandekwa, President and former Treasurer for the Ugandan Bush Meat Advisory Board, a nonprofit, corporate sponsored interest group that promotes eating gorillas. “The Ugandan mountain gorilla is an elusive creature that is much, much easier to sneak up on when concentrating on updating their Facebook profile,” Ruzigandekwa said.

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MY FAVORITE HOMOSEXUALS

Today I couldn’t help but notice homosexuals all over the place.

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I noticed three homosexuals while I watched television as I made coffee for my wife. I saw half a dozen more as I drove my son to school. I saw another two or three in the supermarket where I stopped to buy milk on my way back home. And, when I parked outside my house, I waved to Ted, my gay neighbor, as he was leaving his house to go to work.

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My gay neighbor, Ted.

We chatted a bit and both agreed that the weather was fabulous for this time of year.

It wasn’t always this way.  At one time, not so long ago, I could go for months without encountering a homosexual or even noticing one on the street. Other than Richard Simmons, you almost never saw one on TV.

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Richard Simmons. Very gay.

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But things have changed.  The media today seems jam-packed with homosexuals – both real and imaginary. For example, on the television show Will and Grace, Eric McCormack – a fine, upstanding heterosexual actor – plays the part of a homosexual lawyer.

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Eric McCormack: not gay.

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While on the television show How I Met Your Mother Neil Patrick Harris, who is gay, plays the part of Barney, who isn’t.

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Neil Patrick Harris: totally gay.

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(Harris also played the part of Doogie Howser, which disturbs me.  Somehow I cannot accept that Doogie is gay.)

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What the hell?

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It wasn’t always this way.  In the old days, you could go your whole life without noticing a homosexual.  You could be in the middle of a crowd without realizing you were surrounded by them. Your best friends could have been gay – and probably were – but you would never have known it because they did everything they could to look, sound, dress and live like heterosexuals.  And they were pretty good at it.  Some – like Senator Larry Craig – got married and even had kids just to avoid anyone knowing they were gay. You gotta admire that kind of effort.

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Republican Senator Larry Craig.   Imagine the effort.

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But now it seems that more and more homosexuals go out of their way to appear “gay” by embodying gay stereotypes.  I see lesbians every day with short hair, often wearing bandanas on their heads, dressed in flannel shirts, wearing extra-long baggy cargo/plaid/khaki shorts and walking in Doc Martins or Birkenstocks.

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(If you are a woman and I just described what you look like, and you are not gay, I’m sorry, but it isn’t my fault: you look like a lesbian).

Every day I see effeminate, lisping, mincing, fastidious, fashion-forward, musical theater loving guys who “simply adore” Betty Davis, and who go out of their way to demonstrate that they throw like a girl. (“Here! Catch!  Don’t I throw like a girl?”)

But I am not one to judge.  I mean that in a literal sense.  I tried it, and I was a terrible judge.  I couldn’t really accept the whole “innocent until proven guilty” slogan.  I mean, if the accused might be innocent, then why were they in jail?  They must have done something wrong, right?  When I found out judges are supposed to be “impartial” I realized I am not one to judge.

Not as easy as it looks.

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Neither am I here to debate the issue.  I am not here to say whether the advent of open homosexuality is good or bad.  The last thing I want to do is get involved in a argument over whether homosexuality is a naturally occurring condition – like red hair and freckles – or a mental disease like acute schizophrenia that can be treated with intensive psychotherapy or drugs or even institutionalization.

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As far as I am concerned, both positions have merit, but I don’t want to get involved.

In all honesty, there is a limit to my ability to embrace this brave new world.  I feel I speak for many heterosexuals when I say that there is a certain “ick” factor associated with the concept, if not the practice, of homosexuality.

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We heterosexuals are trying to keep open minds, but we are wired this way and cannot help finding the picture below sort of unsettling on a visceral level.

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And let’s not forget the problems inherent in the persistent argument that the gay lifestyle is an abomination in the eyes of God.  I mean, Leviticus 18:23 really complicates the whole discussion, doesn’t it?

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Repressed homosexual (the one holding the signs).

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But I digress.  The point I am trying to make is that there are lots of homosexuals out there and I might as well point out the ones I like.  Here is a quick list of the homosexuals I approve of:

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Ellen DeGeneres:

Ellen is American’s Gay Sweetheart.

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She is smart.  She is funny.   She replaced Paula Abdul on American Idol.

When you see Ellen it is easy to overlook that she prefers to have sex with women.

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Karl Rove:

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Karl is one of my favorite homosexuals because he defeats the gay stereotype that male homosexuals are fastidious, well groomed and fashionable.  He does this by being fat and sloppy.  Snap! You go, Karl!

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And, to give balance to this column, my least favorite homosexuals are….

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Elton John:

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Elton hasn’t had a hit for years and that thing on his head is clearly a toupee.  Come on, Elton: spend the money.

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Rosie O’Donnell:

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I detest Rosie O’Donnell.  She is a loud-mouthed, annoying, pompous, self-important, corpulent idiot.  She discredits all homosexuals – especially the fat, ugly ones.

Well, that’s it for my thoughts on homosexuality.  I think I’ll have a beer and watch High School Musical. That show is totally gay.

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HEADLINE – MADONNA BOOED FOR DEFENDING GYPSIES

Singer tells Bucharest audience she had a “higher duty to act”

Action Girl

By Rhappee Kanasta (Ass. Press) Updated 3 hours ago.

BUCHAREST, Romania – Thousands of fans booed pop star Madonna as she donned her alter-ego “Action Girl” during one of her concerts.

Madonna paused in the two-hour concert to leap from the stage into the crowd and save a family of Gypsies, also known as Roma, from armed thugs who were trying to rob the family.

“I came here to see a concert, not a rescue,” said Atila Szapolyai. “I don’t care if Madonna is also a superhero. I paid $175 to watch her sing Like A Virgin, not save the day. If I wanted to watch acts of social responsibility I would have gone to the Al Gore concert.”

After teleporting the criminals to the local jail and making sure the family was all right, Madonna continued the concert without further interruption.

After the concert, Gypsies lined up outside Madonna’s dressing room hoping to be adopted.

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