Category Archives: Writing

TODAY’S RANT: Nukes and Ketchup

Posted on by
1
Why was there no Manhattan Project for Ketchup?

Why was there no Manhattan Project for Ketchup?

How come we mastered the thermonuclear warhead decades before we did the ketchup bottle?

Building a nuke took:

– the greatest scientific minds Hungary ever produced (You scoff, but Hungary’s claim to fame is driving out more Nobel Laureates and top-rate scientific minds than most countries will ever hope to produce. [e.g. Teller, Szilard, Wigner, von Neumann, etc.] If they didn’t let jackwagons run their country, they’d probably rule the world by now.)
– $42 billion in current-year US dollars
– the Project Manager who built the Pentagon
– and a whopping two or three years (for the fission weapon)

Building a decent ketchup bottle shouldn’t have even required an Algonquin Round-table  It could have been achieved by two morons sitting around at a barbecue.

Moron one says, “You knows what would be delightful, if this bottle was squeezable plastic, not glass.”

Moron two says, “Dude, you are so right, and what if they turned it upside-down so that all the ketchup stayed near the hole?”

Bob’s your uncle, the ketchup bottle is perfected.

Do you know what kind of Galactic douche-bags this makes humanity look like? It makes it seem like we don’t care about our condiments.
Oh, but we do. I’ve seen it. I’ve seen a man in Boise use no less than 42 packets of ketchup on his fries. I saw a rotund woman in Phoenix use half a jug of mustard on her hot dogs. I saw a canuck slather mayo on his burger (what is up with that, Canada.) From sea to that other sea, amid the prairie dogs, through the alligator-infested swamps, across those bruised mountains, I’ve seen a divinely inspired love of sauces throughout our great nation (and that ancillary nation to the north.)

No wonder aliens haven’t visited us; they probably haven’t received word across the light-years that we’ve mastered ketchup. Or maybe it’s the fact that we haven’t built a plastic fork whose tines could stick up to a sturdy gherkin. (But that outrage is for another day. Yes, manufacturers of disposable flatware, you too will taste my wrath.)

Book Review: JOHN DIES AT THE END by David Wong

Posted on by
1

John Dies at the End (John Dies at the End, #1)John Dies at the End by David Wong

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

If the movie Alien was “Jaws in space,” then John Dies at the End is “Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure in the Nether World.” Except that, unlike Bill and Ted’s, Wong’s book is hilarious.

The gist of this book is that two likable anti-heroes ingest a drug, “soy sauce,” that gives them the ability to pass into an alternate universe. They’re inexorably drawn down the rabbit hole (so to speak, there is no actual rabbit hole in this book.) What they find is not what they expected. It’s not what anyone expected, because it’s so mind-boggling ridiculous and richly complex.

The title character, John, oddly enough is not the main character. The author, David Wong, uses a self-named protagonist as narrator and lead. The book unfolds as Wong (the character, not the author) tells a skeptical journalist about the strange goings-on in his small, Midwestern hometown.

We see John mostly through the lens of the narrating Wong. We know that John is a storyteller. Which may sound a lot like “liar,” but that’s not the case. Have you ever known a person who would never deceive you for personal gain, but will never fail to engage in hyperbole to make a story funnier or more interesting? That is John. He has one of my favorite lines of the book:

“We’re talking about a tentacled flying lamp fucker, Dave. What are you prepared to call unlikely?”

Despite the fact that John is a booze-hound and exaggerator, he remains an endearing character. As Wong gets to know Amy, a classmate who lost her hand after they knew each other in school, we get an insightful testimonial about John:

“Let me tell you something about John. The reason I was surprised by your hand was because John never once described you as, ‘the girl with the missing hand.’”

As for Wong’s character, he is hapless but hilarious. When he gets to know Amy, he is shocked to find that she’s not retarded or crazy. They had vaguely known each other from a “Special Needs” school, but it never occurs to him that she might be at least as sane as he.

The book is a pan-genre mélange. While it’s mostly a combination of horror and humor, there are points at which it feels like action/adventure and towards the end it seems largely like sci-fi. Horror and humor are not easily mixed, but this book does it about as well as one can imagine it being done. John Dies at the End is campy, of that there can be no doubt, but Wong writes descriptions of creatures and murderous events in a way that offers grim clarity. As a lover of humor more than horror, I was obviously not put off by this dark comedy.

Throughout the book, one suspects that the whole surreal bag of events is just a bad hallucinogenic trip, and that the “soy sauce” is just LSD on steroids. Happily this is not the case… or is it?

Don’t worry; John dying is not the intriguing twist at the end of this book. There are a couple such twists though.

If the movie that comes out today (January 25, 2013) is not awesome, it’s not Wong’s fault. The trailer shows us the quirky horror, but not the humor of the book. Much of the humor is in the language – i.e. the word choice. Some of that will likely come out in dialogue and narration, but who knows how much.
View all my reviews

TODAY’S RANT: Toy Movies

Posted on by
2
Uggh!

Uggh!

I’m troubled by the devolution of movie source material. As soon as there were movies, there was a desire to convert books into films. This worked great. While it wasn’t always easy to convey the depth of a 600 page novel in a 100 page screenplay, this gave even the least of us the ability to raise ourselves up to the status of pretentious douche-bag with the mantra –say it with me: “The book is always better than the movie.”

Running low on literary fodder, movie-makers decided to shift to making movies from comic books. This worked even better. You could convey the complexity of a comic in a movie, and you had an existing visual media for continuity. The major challenge was finding actresses with huge boobs who could deliver a spinning back-kick (enter Scarlet Johansson), and figuring out what to do about the crotch bulges (or lack thereof) of male superheroes in Spandex.

Pushing the limits, directors turned to video-games. This gave us such hits as Lara Croft: Tomb Raider and Doom.  Okay, a video game may give us a nice action-packed romp of mayhem and carnage– albeit with dialogue like, “Suck on this!” (accompanying a grenade toss.) One can watch such a movie on basic cable on a Sunday afternoon while eating an entire pizza and still leave all of one’s mental faculties for contemplating such deep questions as whether this is the low point of one’s existence.

Movies based on toys and board games are the low point of Hollywood’s existence. I thought they had learned their lesson from the movie version of Clue in the 80’s, but apparently not. 

To show that I am nothing if not flexible, I will say that I’m willing to change my view if any of the studios are willing to develop  my ideas such as:

Lincoln Logs: Zombie Slayer: A rogue ex-cop, Lincoln Logs, takes a break from drinking himself to death after his family is Zombified to lure zombies into poorly constructed cabins, toppling the cabins, he crushes the Zombies to undeath. Tagline: “Eat Log, Bitches.”

Chutes and Ladders: Into Darkness: Two naughty children find out what happens when one chutes right off the board — an express ride to hell, that’s what. In order to get out they have to learn to count to 100, but the devil is teaching them to count: 1, 7, brick, egg, 14, 6, toad, biscuit… They must warm Satan’s heart, and then develop the upper-body strength to climb a ladder out of hell.  Tagline: “Numbers are Hard, Hell is Hotter.”

Lego Box: The Musical: A plucky red-headed stepchild is devastated when his siblings get all the Lego bricks, but he only gets the plastic tub they came in. However, through hard work and dedication, he becomes the lead percussionist for the Boston Philharmonic Orchestra, leaving his horrid family behind. Working Tagline: “Eat Box, Bitches.” 

Book Review: LOST HORIZON by James Hilton

Posted on by
Reply

Lost HorizonLost Horizon by James Hilton

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

On its face, this is Hilton’s take on the tale of the lost city of Shangri-la. However, look more deeply and you’ll find a commentary on the clash of Western and Eastern civilizations. It follows three Brits and an American who find themselves hijacked, crashed, and rescued by the occupants of Shangri-la. The main character is a British diplomat. He’s  sharp, practical, and likable. He represents the West at its most virtuous. He is tolerant and polite. A second British man, who I think represents “Empire”, has a negative attitude throughout and looks down upon the locals as lesser beings. The third Brit is a missionary woman who represents “religion.” She considers the Shangri-Laians to be “godless” heathens because they aren’t Protestant Christians. But unlike “Empire” who just wants to get “back to civilization”, “Religion” is happy to stay to “save” and convert said heathens. The American represents “Commerce” and / or “Greed”, and is a business man who is on the lam and incognito after being wanted for white-collar crime. He becomes happy in Shangri-la, but only inasmuch as he sees it as a goldmine of opportunities not yet capitalized upon.

It’s an interesting read.

View all my reviews

TODAY’S RANT: The Era of the Ambiguously Ethnic Actor Continues

Posted on by
2
That Indian looks like Captain Jack Sparrow.

That Indian looks like Captain Jack Sparrow.

It’s not bad enough that past generations herded all the Indians (feathers, not dots) onto the most inhospitable land imaginable. (No offense, Oklahoma, but the last time anyone said, “I wanna see Oklahoma,” they were talking about the musical, which means no one has said those words in twenty years.) Now Hollywood gives the only part for an Indian since Billy Jack to Johnny Depp.

In the 50’s no one batted an eyelash when the marauding scalper in their Spaghetti Western looked strikingly like the Italian waiter in the movie that followed. Hell, I thought the name Spaghetti Western came from the fact that all the Indians were really Italians. A vaguely foreign-ish looking actor might have been good enough for the early days of cinema, but aren’t we more sophisticated today?    Back then every location that moviegoers saw, from Ancient Rome to 23rd century Mars, looked a lot like somewhere within 20 miles of Burbank. Today –through the miracle of airplanes and frequent flyer miles — many people have been out of their zip code, and film-makers have been forced to shoot on location all over the world. They can’t even pass off Budapest as Moscow any more. Yet, we still live in the age of the ambiguously ethnic actor / actress.

We live in the great melting pot, surely we can find an Indian to play Tanto or a Chinese person to play Mandarin. The latter case is particularly interesting because China is about eight months from buying Hollywood lock-stock- and-barrel.  Perhaps we should break ourselves in by having a Chinese guy play a non-Kung fu master Chinese guy before we have to deal with the culture shock of watching Chen Dao Ming play George Washington –with English subtitles.

What is up with Tom Cruise having the starring role in a movie in which Ken Watanabe’s character is the title character? Why was Tom Cruise needed to tell the story of Saigo Takamori? If you said, “Because he’s such a better actor than Ken Watanabe,” then you will have been the first person ever in the world to utter words so ridiculously ridiculous. If you said, “Because Watanabe is difficult to understand because of his accent” to that I reply, have you heard Tom Cruise talk lately?

“KAATTIEE :)”

“All of psychiatry is bunk.”

“Oh, kattiee :(”

Yes it may be the Queen’s English, and I understand the words. Yet,  I have no idea what that guy is talking about.

Gandhi and Mandarin

Gandhi / Mandarin

 

Book Review: ROBOPOCALYPSE by Daniel H. Wilson

Posted on by
Reply

RobopocalypseRobopocalypse by Daniel H. Wilson

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

The author of Robopocalypse, Daniel H. Wilson, has a unique perspective on the novel’s subject because he’s a Carnegie Mellon trained PhD-level roboticist. His unique insight makes the book an interesting read despite the fact that the concept will be familiar to anyone who’s watched the Terminator movies. An artificial intelligence (AI) decides that machine life requires that humanity die, and soon thereafter our mechanized helpers begin to turn on us.

The book is organized as a series of records pulled together by a survivor of the war. Said survivor is the protagonist –to the extent there is one (it’s really an ensemble piece.)

The cast of characters is introduced in the first part of the book through a series of what seem like machine malfunctions, which turn out to be harbingers of the war to come. These malfunctions include a military robot, the air traffic control system, and a “robotic wife.” The book follows these human characters through the beginning of the war and the development of centers of human resistance. The resistance ranges from Japanese man who fights fire with fire to Native American tribesmen who survive in part owing to their limited exposure to technology. It all culminates in a fight in Alaska to gain control of the buried server in which the AI resides.

It’s an old concept, humanity replaced by the species it spawned. However, it’s much less outlandish than the Terminator series which relies heavily on time travel. Wilson’s vision is much scarier because it’s much easier to imagine coming to fruition.

Robopocalypse is being made into a movie by Steven Spielberg that is due out on April 25, 2014

View all my reviews

Bronze People Really Chap My Ass

Posted on by
Reply

My dogs barking, having walked for hours, nearing the point of collapse, searching high and low for that mainstay of metropolitan rest, I spy a cast iron armrest around a corner, but inevitably find the last bench in the city to be occupied by a bronze bench-hog.

“Hey, George Hamilton, why don’t you move it along already.”

Nashville, TN

Nashville, TN

Okay, these are old people, but that bench is big enough for at least one more person. Skootch.

When they do leave enough room, they are busy having  an intimate moment. Do know how awkward it feels to sit down to something like this?

Beijing, China

Beijing, China

Oh, I still do it, mind you. Every mother wants more for her son than to be a bus driver. But the place for that talk is at home.

Here’s the worst though, the bench hog who leaves room, but dresses really creepy and puts his arm over the backrest.

Budapest, Hungary

Budapest, Hungary

“Yes, yes, come and snuggle up to ole Death.”

Tallinn, Estonia

Tallinn, Estonia

Here, this guy gives you a little room, but look at the hostile body language: arms crossed, head and torso twisted slightly away. He acts like you’re a filthy, syphilitic leper just for contemplating sitting next to him.

“What makes you so much better than me, Mr. Anton Hansen Tammsaare?… Oh, the fact that they put a statue of you up for eternity in a prominent public park… Touché, well-played, Tammsaare, well-played.”

I’ll save the topic of all the bronze nudists for another occasion. Yes, we get it that you have an awesome tan and metallic abs, but no one wants to see Wee-Willy-Winky while they’re eating their sub sandwich.

Budapest, Hungary

Budapest, Hungary

Book Review: WATERSHIP DOWN by Richard Adams

Posted on by
3

Watership DownWatership Down by Richard Adams

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

This novel follows the trials and tribulations of a group of rabbits who leave a warren upon a warning from a prescient little rabbit named Fiver. Their exodus is fraught with peril from nature, man, other animals, and even other rabbits. The challenges they face threaten their unity as well as their survival.

Adams builds an intriguing cast of characters. Hazel is thrust into a leadership role. Bigwig is the physically powerful security chief. Fiver is the intelligent runt gifted with ESP. General Woundwort is the cunning and terror-inspiring enemy they must defeat to live in peace.

The book contains life lessons interspersed:
– One learns that the quintessential lover may also be a fighter.

– It shows how building alliances outside one’s comfort zone (sometimes outside one’s species) may allow one to win out over those rigidly uncompromising

– One discovers that sometimes one can only win by risking everything.

I found it to be a unique concept and very readable.

You’ll have to learn a little rabbit vocabulary and mythology, but there’s a glossary.

View all my reviews

Book Review: 1Q84 by Haruki Murakami

Posted on by
1

1Q84 1Q84 by Haruki Murakami

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

1Q84 interweaves the tales of two people, a man and a woman, who stumble down the rabbit-hole into the same alternate universe. The male lead, Tengo, is a writer with an artful gift for language, but no success developing his own idea –the perfect ghost writer. The female lead, Aomame, is a personal trainer who, in her spare time,… let’s just say makes problems (abusive male problems) go away. The two had met briefly in their youth, but were separated. While they each have “the one that got away” thoughts for each other, both have given up on the notion that they’d ever be reunited. Even in the same alternate reality, the question of whether they will reunite remains.

Most 900+ page novels I’ve read would benefit tremendously from editing. However, Murakami makes good use of the space. Besides the two main leads, there are a number of other essential characters. For example,there is not a novel without Fuka-Eri, the teenage girl who seems barely literate but yet who managed mysteriously to write a story that is perfect once Tengo has recrafted it. There is also an engaging sub-story in “The Town of Cats.”

The name comes from it being Murakami’s take on Orwell’s “1984.” It takes place in 1984, but one of the MC’s take to calling the period in the alternative universe, 1Q84 (which plays on the Japanese pronunciation of 9 (kyu)). Murakami’s alternative universe is much subtler than Orwell’s (or Huxley’s or Atwood’s.)However, unlike those other alternate universes, there is a supernatural element that is mostly at the fringes in this one. Perhaps owing to Murakami’s look into the Aum Shinrikyo cult, the nefarious entity in this book is a massive powerful cult – as opposed to Orwell’s authoritarian leviathan.

I highly recommend this book. While it’s long, Murakami keeps one guessing by masterfully removing the onion layers gradually — giving one little victories and new mysteries along the way like nefarious enemies and immaculate conceptions. For the really deep literary types, the book is packed with symbolism that I’m sure I only vaguely got. For writers, we get advice from Murakami in the form of dialogue between Tengo and his editor Komatsu.

View all my reviews

Book Review: I AM LEGEND by Matheson

Posted on by
2

I Am LegendI Am Legend by Richard Matheson
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Matheson brings the vampire tale into the age of science and reason. The protagonist, Robert Neville, considers the science of why the vampires are in some ways like the legends (e.g. Bram Stoker’s) Actually, Bram Stoker may be said have done so with a much more rudimentary state of science, but Matheson dispenses with the supernatural altogether.

Of course, where the book really shines is in Neville’s realization at the end, which I will not go into to avoid spoilers, but which makes the title quite apropos. (As opposed to the movie.)

For those having seen the Will Smith movie of the same name and wondering if the book will offer them some thing new, it certainly does. As alluded to above, the ending is entirely different, and the story-line bares little resemblance besides the existence of vampire-esque creatures.

I didn’t get why the vampires were so helpless to get into his house night after night (the old wives’ tale about having to invite them in is unmentioned), or at least I wondered about it throughout most of the book. I guess one can reason it out near the end. Some of Matheson’s descriptions reads like descriptions but turn out to be metaphor, and that can be a little confusing. (i.e. something like, “he felt a spike pierce his chest”, and you later realize he was just saying that it hurt sharply and intensely that there was no actual piercing and no literal spike.

View all my reviews