It's the Most Punching-est Time of the Year!

Pop quiz, hot shot!

This example of Santa Claus Bad-Assery can be explained by:

1. Batman has dressed up as Santa to stop a ring of theives;


2. A futuristic Santa-bot protects these innocent waifs; or


3. Santa is actually a New York grandma who used to fight crime by wearing longjohns, oven mitts, and a cooking pot on her head!

Glad we cleared that up!

Until next time,
The Jim

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Ma Hunkel and other such whackiness can be found in JSA #7 (Princes of Darkness), including an ex-heavyweight boxer who dresses up as a kitty cat to punch bad guys.
Merry Christmas, my peeps!

Old Ass Reviews: 24 Hour Party People

When we moved to the new house, we got a good offer on the cable that included a DVR. I’ve never had one, so I’ve probably gone a little overboard by recording tons of things I could probably do without. In particular, I’ll often find myself recording movies off of IFC, Ovation, or other such networks. They’ll often be flicks of which I’ve never heard, but the title or one-sentence description sounds cool to me. Of course, this also means I have a backlog of about 15 movies to watch, but so be it.

Recently, I got around to watching the 2002 movie 24 Hour Party People. It follows the Manchester music scene through the 1980’s and 1990’s by following the story of Tony Wilson, a small-time British TV personality who became the founder of Factory Records.

I really enjoyed this movie for 3 distinct reasons. First of all, the subject is cool as hell. That Manchester scene was at the center of two music explosions during my high school & college years. First, there was the whole post-Punk, college radio, underground British music scene. Joy Division, Stone Roses, James, Happy Mondays, The Smiths … they all came out of that scene, and most of them were part, at some point, of Factory Records. You know the song Blue Monday by New Order?


Well, that was the greatest selling single in the history of the UK (and since no one releases singles any more, that title is probably safe). As you saw, that was also known as FAC 73, Factory Record’s goofy way of numbering everything from posters to dance clubs to a cat.

As a mea culpa, I’ll admit I was not nearly that musically nuanced as a high school kid. I didn't get hooked on that genre until college, when Chris (The Official College Roommate of The Jim) gave me the 411. I remember listening to a Best of New Order tape in my old Chevy Caprice for about 2 months straight, and one of the first CD’s I ever bought was Technique.

Of slightly lesser interest to me was that Manchester also served as one of the epicenters for the whole rave movement in the 1990’s. Not exactly my thing, but I can enjoy it sparingly.

My point is that this one city in Britain helped usher in the concept of “the DJ is a star”, where now some of these guys are famous enough to start getting with celebrity starlets. More importantly, though, it helped usher in the second British Invasion of music. Bands like Keane, Coldplay, and Oasis all owe a debt to that period which revitalized a completely bland music scene in that country.

I also love the style of this movie. It’s told very metafictional and tongue-in-cheek. The guy playing Tony Wilson regularly breaks the 4th Wall. Actual participants show up in cameos to tell the audience that the script isn't accurate. The film is grainy like an old 70’s home video. The story occasionally glosses over parts about Wilson’s life, and then the character tells you that this is by design, as the real story is the music. It combines the style of an arthouse film with the comedic, relaxed feel of Monty Python.

That neat style really helps, because there’s SO much here that I didn’t understand. The movie assumes you not only understand British slang and references, but that you really know who all these people and bands are supposed to be. It would be easy to get lost in it all; however, it’s so well made that I was perfectly willing to go along for the ride.

That, by the way, was the third reason I liked this thing. So often, I watch these historical movies or biographies pretty much knowing the story, or at least having a solid understanding of the context and backdrop. In this case, though, I was CLUELESS! I had no idea how important Manchester was an epicenter to some of my favorite music genres. I had never heard of Factory Records, or The Hacienda, or any of it. After watching this thing, I’m really interested in learning more. There’s a new biopic about Ian Curtis from Joy Division that I’ll go out and rent soon. I’d love to find a detailed book or documentary about these people as well. I’m really intrigued by the whole thing.

Anyway, that’s it. If you like music, England, or drug-fueled hallucinations of God, than go out and find 24 Hour Party People. Unless you’re my main man Chris, you probably won’t get it all, but it’s still worth it!

Until next time,
The Jim

Old Ass Reviews: 10,000 BC

My wife and I decided to rent some flicks Thanksgiving weekend, which finally gave me the chance to see 10,000 BC. I never caught it in the theaters because I didn't think it held much promise. The video store, however, was pretty devoid of good choices over the holidays, so I thought I'd give it a shot.

Our story starts with some Ancient Eskimo-type/caveman-type guys living in a snow-covered valley in the mountains. The tribe lives off of hunting – especially mammoths. Eventually, some other peeps show up on horseback and kidnap pretty much everyone, including home dude’s love interest. So, our intrepid hero (D’Leh) heads after them with a few other hunters in tow.

These guys cross the mountain that no one has ever crossed, and end up in a jungle chased by Terror Birds. They push through that and end up in the grasslands. While there, our hero ends up in a tiger pit and happens to save a saber-toothed tiger. Later, he runs across a small village. The natives (ancient Bushmen, maybe?) are first agitated by the mighty Deee-Lite (or whatever his name is), but then they decide to follow him when the saber-tooth comes back to rescue him.

At this point, the flick is starting to sound like Beastmaster, but trust me ... it gets worse!

D-Man leads his ever growing army of Sub-Saharan tribes to the shores of the Nile. Apparently, the raiders on horseback have been taking slaves from everyone’s village and bringing them to Egypt. Our heroes just miss the boats, so of course they have to walk across the freaking Sahara to go after the slave boats. Eventually they make it, thanks to the fact that Heavy D is apparently the only guy who knows how the North Star works.

Thanks to his guidance, the army makes it to Egypt where … wait for it … the Egyptians are using FREAKING WOOLY MAMMOTHS TO BUILD GOLD-TOPPED PYRAMIDS!!! Eventually, there’s some random stupidity regarding a prophecy, and our hero manages to bring down the evil pharaoh using his Eskimo know-how and mammoth-hunting techniques (and I only wish I was making that up).

OK, there's a lot of things I can forgive with this anachronistic piece of floatsom. I can live with the gold-topped pyramids (even though such a load would be too heavy and impractical). Or the fact that Terror Birds died out well before humans made the scene. Or the fact that this movie happens well before the Pyramids were built (around 2540 BC). Or the fact that wooly mammoths are shown in Egypt, despite the fact that there’s NO WAY that happened! (Can you imagine wool-covered elephants surviving 5 minutes in the Sahara desert? Me neither!)

I’m willing to forgive all of this, if someone associated with this piece of crap could tell me: ON WHAT PLANET DOES THIS MOVIE TAKE PLACE? Just take a look at the following map of Africa:


OK, I see desert, grasslands, and jungle, but … where’s this freaking Himalaya-like mountain valley? Take a look at this crappy map where I've sketched out a possible route:


Working backwards, we finished up at the mouth of the Nile around Cairo. The army came from the South in a harrowing march across the desert. (OK, so far so good). Before that, they met the other tribes in the African grasslands. (Still with ya.) This of course was preceded by a trek through the dense jungle. (All good.) And right before that, we start our adventure in a high, snowy mountain valley with little to know sunlight or vegetation. (Well that seems - WHAT???)

There is no huge African mountain range. From what I can tell, maybe they started around Mt. Kilimanjaro, but that's just one peak sticking out of the savanna. I mean, look at that aerial view. Do you see any valleys or long mountain stretches? How hard is it to look at a map before you make a freaking movie?

While I was writing all this, I also thought of another problem with this movie: it’s racially condescending to an absurd level. The Egyptians have been taking thousands and thousands of these African tribal warriors as slaves for decades (maybe even centuries) and they're helpless to resist. As soon as one freaking white dude shows up from the magical Mt. Honky, however, they all unite to free their loved ones? Before Captain Caveman shows up with his incredible mammoth-hunting technology, these simple-minded Nubians couldn’t come up with the brilliant plan of THROW A SPEAR AT THE BAD GUY?

Obviously, this is a touchy subject. That's why I like to rely on my expert on race relations: Hooper X. What do you think, Hooper?

See that man right there?
He the Devil, understand? Never take your eyes off The Man!
Until next time,
The Jim

I'm a Multi-Site Superstar!

I was featured in a friend's blog today. Of course, by "featured" I mean he posted the following photo:

(Click above to see the original post.)

And to answer a question raised in the comments, that girl was, in fact, dancing with me. EVERYONE was dancing with me! I was a large, intoxicated fat man in Jamaica. In short, I was the life of the party!

Next time you're in the mood to read about the life of a doctor/musician/political junkie, make sure to check out my best man's blog over at: Will Maranto's World. He's just starting his site, and I'd be happy to lend the support of my 2 or 3 readers to his cause!

Until next time,
The Jim

What about Beige Saturday or Off-White Tuesday?

My wife and I decided to go out to do the Black Friday shopping. It’s not something I’ve ever done before, but I decided to go with it because:

1. We’re pretty broke, so any type of crazy savings are welcome;


2. She has a limited amount of time available for shopping due to school, so it was ideal to do this when she had a vacation; and


3. Our current schedules prevent us from spending much time together, so it was a chance for us to hang out.

We didn’t do anything crazy like get over to the mall at 1 AM or steal toys from someone else's cart. We just got up early, grabbed some breakfast, and then headed out to a mall near here.

My reaction to my first Black Friday shopping experience - IT SUCKS!! People are freaking insane when it comes to this stuff. Not only is every store crowded with rude, mindless people, but half of the places looked like they were looted in advance of a nuclear strike. Why do we have a run on toaster ovens or purses when you could have gotten the same stuff last week … or even 4 months ago? Are you telling me that these people not only just realized that we were actually holding Christmas this year, but also that Little Timmy just had to have that Tonka Truck or the entire reason for his existence would be called into question?

Check out this story from New York. Roughly 2,000 or so idiots had camped outside a Wal-Mart, and just had to get inside to get whatever craptastic gift they wanted. So, they did what any intelligent mob would do – they surged forward when the store opened at 5 AM and TRAMPLED THE WAL-MART GREETER TO DEATH. Two people were killed and others injured, included a pregnant woman. The force of the surge was so great that they knocked the doors off the hinges. Security cameras showed these lovely citizens as they would see the man lying on the floor, step right over him, and then run off to get the goods.

Now it’s easy to make a joke about New Yorkers or typical Wal-Mart patrons, but let’s be honest – are we shocked by this? Sure, it’s awful and outrageous, but that story could happen every freaking year, and no one would really be all that surprised. But more to the point – Wal-Mart? Really? I can understand if there was a special free give away at Bob’s Strip Club and Cure for Cancer Emporium, but this was Wal-Mart. Everything’s already cheap there, and it’s not like they’ve got wall-to-wall luxury items. Is it really worth some guy’s life to get a $2 discount on an off-brand blender?

Or how about this story from California? Apparently check-out at a Toys-R-Us ended in an insane gun battle which left 2 guys dead. The authorities stated this had nothing to do with the post-Thanksgiving shopping, but how does that make things better? People are now going into a TOY STORE with loaded weapons? Even if this shooting wasn’t Black Friday related, the next one surely will be.

Of course, it is nice that these guys remembered the true meaning of Christmas, when little baby Jesus demanded that everyone buy the best toy and kill all others in your way. It’s a beautiful story, when you think about it.

Why is Black Friday such a big deal? There are 365 days in a year – are we such mindless cattle that we only know to shop for Christmas gifts when the news reports tell us to do so? It seems to me you have to be a pretty crappy retailer if you depend on 1 day in late November to make sure you're profitable for the year. I just don’t get it, and I just don’t get the insane shoppers that are so absorbed in it.

All that said, though, I’m sure I’ll be right back out there next year. My wife refuses to shop online, and she loves to go out and make a day or two of Christmas shopping. We get to hang out, and that’s always good. I guess as long as I’m never camping out at 2 AM or fighting some woman over the last Street Fighter Barbie, I can live with annoying crowds once or twice a year.

Then again, Street Fighter Barbie does sound pretty awesome. Maybe it’d be worth it to punch some woman in the eye.


Until next time,
The Jim

Part II: A Long Time Coming

First of all, a little follow-up from the last post. I noticed after reading through my ramblings that my artist's concept had an error in it. The drawing showed the lime green section on the bottom floor, when I believe it was actually on the top floor. I mean, a lime green bottom floor! How crazy would that have been?

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I like to think my family has quite a few notable members. I have a great-aunt who was a long-time college history professor. My dad's aunts and uncle wrote a Louisiana history text which we used in 7th grade. Some distant cousin somewhere was head basketball coach at Southeastern Louisiana, while I've got some other relative who teaches mathematics at the University of Kentucky.

My mom's dad was a surveyor and engineer, and designed a pretty sizeable bridge in central Louisiana. His son (my uncle) later worked on the design of the replacement bridge, which means my family OWNS that freaking river!! My great-grandparents had 9 children in poor, post-Depression Louisiana, and yet they managed to make sure every one of their kids attended college. I've got one sister who's a nurse, the other's in school right now, and my brother has played music for the Pope. That's right ... the Pope! The freaking Pope!!

So, all that to say that we've managed to carve out a couple of minor accomplishments here and there. Nothing, however, compares to Billy!

Both of my mom's grandmothers lived well into their 80's (actually, I think one made it to her 90's). Well, when my mom's maternal grandmother, Big Mama, eventually passed away, I went back down south for the funeral.

(That's right ... we called her Big Mama! We called my other great-grandmother Murtool (instead of Myrtle), and I've got an uncle EVERYONE calls Nootsie (instead of Ralph, Jr.)! Cajuns are weird - what's new there?)

During the visitation, distant family and friends poured in from all over. Of particular interest to me, however, was an affable gentleman appearing to be in his 70's or so. He had white hair but certainly appeared to be in pretty good shape. I saw him talk to everyone, including my mother, pay his respects, and so on. I had never met this guy before, so I eventually asked my mom about him. It turns out that his name was Billy, and he was my great-grandmother's younger brother. He still lived in Marksville, had a slew of kids, etc., etc. Apparently in his younger days, though, Billy had been a professional wrestler, touring around the South during that great period when crappy, regional wrestling events were still shown on regular TV.

Oh, did I mention Billy is a MIDGET!

That's right, boys and girls, I'm related to Billy the Kid, and not the cheesy gun-toting punk. No, this Billy the Kid tore it up during the '70s, as he appeared at the same events as Ric Flair and Jimmy Hart. Just check out this awesome picture from back in the day. Cajun Power, indeed! Now, unless your father invented Bat Shark Repellant or something, you're going to be hard-pressed to convince me you've got something better than that in the family tree!

Apparently, there's also a couple of DVD's out there featuring Billy. This first one looks like it's a pretty homemade operation, but it's got a clip of a tag team match of Billy with some guy named Little Jamaica as they battled Sky Low Low & Little Brutus. According to the seller, "Billy finally pinned Sky after whipping him into Brutus. The offbeat shenanigans continued after the bell." So not only did Billy get the pin, but there were freaking SHENANIGANS going on!

The second video is even more off the chain, as Billy was in a tag-team match with a regular size dude. Not only that, his partner was freakin' Jimmy Hart! Jimmy Hart used to wrestle with Andy Kaufman, for goodness sake! One of these days, I need to splurge and get one of these for my own viewing pleasure.

Check out this roster for Mid-Atlantic Championship Wrestling. Not only is Ric Flair on that roster, but they had guys named Mighty Igor, "Professor" Boris Malenko, and even the infamous Masked Superstar. I won't lie and say I'm a huge wrestling fan or anything, but that just seems SO COOL!!

Well, that's it ... there's my tie to greatness. Not only did I rub elbows with a wrestling bad-ass, but I actually have some kick-ass in my bloodline. Really, I don't know why I didn't come out of the womb doing a reverse pile-driver on the doctor ... maybe it's a recessive gene or something.



Until next time,
The Jim

Bask in my Glory, People!

I want to let you people in on a little secret … I am descended from greatness! Now, before I get a reputation for self-aggrandizement, let me say that I’m fully aware how pretentious that sounds. I will, however, prove unequivocally that my ancestry shall put all others to shame, except perhaps for these guys. (Even I’m not cooler than the coolest cats in Cook County!)

The first part of my tale takes us to a simpler time – an age of reason, class, and distinction. Of course, I speak of the late 1970’s, when Wink Martindale unveiled the greatest game show of all time, a scrawny scientist taught us we wouldn't like it when we got him angry, and Empire was still a glint in George Lucas’s eye. Back then, I was a young lad living in Natchitoches, Louisiana. Natchitoches is a small town in the central part of the state best known for being the oldest continuous settlement in the Louisiana Purchase, serving as the setting for the greatest diabetes-themed chick flick ever made, and originating the finest deep-fried, meat-filled pastries known to man. I'm not sure why we lived there - I'm sure it had something to do with Dad's job.

Our first house there was a relatively new abode on a single street on the outskirts of town. I believe it was supposed to be the start of a new neighborhood, but I never saw any additional development going on during our stay there. Our backyard abutted an expansive pasture, which was a fantastic place for flying kites. I distinctly remember the day we bought a 4-foot deep above-ground pool, and I stayed outside in it for approximately 12 hours straight. My sunburn from that day resulted in every inch of my skin peeling off ... I essentially molted that summer!

I also remember the time my dad took the sawed-off ends of 2 x 4’s and made a model of Sesame Street for me. I "drew" different characters on old pieces of wood, and then ... well, I'm not sure what I did then. I guess I played Sesame Street, although that sounds an awful lot like playing with dolls. Maybe it's best that we just move on ...

Right now, you may be saying to yourself, “Jim, that doesn’t sound all that much like greatness to me.” Allow me to retort by saying:

1) You apparently can’t envision how awesome that Big Bird was.
2) I can’t hear you, genius! This is a written medium.
3) Be patient ... I'm getting to the good stuff.

Anyway, we had this massive pasture behind the house. The grass would get pretty tall, making it an ideal place to run around and hide or whatever (as dumb kids tend to do). One day, I noticed a lot of construction going on all the way on the other side of the pasture. I didn't walk over there, as I was just as lazy back then as I am now; however, I watched as a new, two-story house was being constructed. This wasn't any ordinary house, though. It had a wood siding and white trim. The bottom story was some form of purple, but the top story was lime green. Perhaps your mind can't conceive of such a color scheme. In that eventuality, please take a glance at the following conceptual drawing:



Now, a kid my age got his sense of style from The Super Friends, so this house didn't seem abnormal. Apparently, though, this multi-chromatic dwelling raised a few inquiries around the area. Eventually, my Dad let me know that he learned the identity of the newest neighbor: Mr. Sylvester Ritter. Of course, you may know him better as THIS GUY:



That’s right, True Believers ... we lived next to the freaking Junkyard Dog! The J-Y-freakin'-D! This man, this bastion of greatness, this prince among men lived mere minutes away from my lowly home.

Now, I'm aware the uninformed or uneducated amongst you may see him as just some dude wearing a chain and spandex; however, those of us with class and sophistication know the JYD was truly one of the greatest men of our age. Hell, he even made it onto Hulk Hogan’s Saturday morning cartoon! Have any of you ever been depicted in a cartoon? I didn’t think so!



I never met the Dog, and 8 to 12 months later, his house burned down. (I have no idea why, but I like to think it spontaneously combusted from sheer bad-assitude!) We moved away, and that was that ... but for that brief time, I was living next to a true American Treasure. How many of you punks can say as much?

Well, after all that, I know it seems like I fell a little short, huh? That rambling tale of wrestling celebrities and their atrocious color choices just doesn't seem to match up with my claim of greatness. But see, I only told you that story to tell you the NEXT tale. Our next saga will provide such hard-hitting evidence as to the very greatness within my genes that even you, my harshest critics, will understand that the Mantle of Greatness truly is mine to bear.

And we'll get to that in a little something I like to call ... Part II!

(OK, maybe I need to work on the title a little, but it's still going to be good!)

Until next time,
The Jim

This is What Happens When They Make You Grow Up!

Obviously, my post schedule took a big hit during October. Unfortunately, life gets in the way. I had a pretty big crisis pop up recently, and it really took all of my focus away from essentially everything else.

Now, when I say "crisis", I'm not talking about a "My fantasy football team has turned to crap" crisis, or "The cover just fell off of my copy of Fables Volume 3" crisis (although both of those things have happened). No, this was a "Are we going to be able to pay the bills and keep our house" crisis. In reality, things never were that dire, and everything seems pretty much back to status quo for now. It was, however, a pretty harrowing stretch for us.

I'm not going to get into the details. I may do so in a not-too-distant future, depending on how things proceed from here on out. The good news is that for now, everything's cool. Many thanks to all of you who helped out with advice and guidance while the drama unfurled.

Now that I've managed to get back on track, I'm hopping to get back into writing mode. I'm looking forward to it, and I'm sure my three readers are equally enthused.

Until next time,
The Jim

Is it That Time of Year Already?

So it's time for my annual review at work. This time I was asked to write a review of myself, which would then be incorporated with my boss's review. As one can tell by reading anything on this site, I tend to get long-winded, so what should have been a one-page synopsis became a six-page rambling report.

The following phrases were actually included in my self evaluation:

• fairly strong record of client interaction


• Developed a methodology for improving speed and accuracy


• I plan to further my growth in this area (That's what she said!)


• Establish a reputation of dependability and capability


• Established a cooperative and convivial work atmosphere (This is my favorite!)


• Significant initiative and cooperation


• Provide due diligence

Sounds like a heaping pile of crap, right? Upon further contemplation, here are some of the phrases I should have included, but didn't:

• Will expand my ability to pretend to work


• Will uncover the secret to the Super Soldier formula


• Have evolved into a being of pure energy that shall control all mankind


• Have never stabbed a co-worker (except for that one guy who CLEARLY HAD IT COMING!)


• Continue to perform at the same high level demanded by the voices in my head


• Grow in my mastery of Esperanto


• Only the third time I saved a bus full of nuns

The business world would be much more fun if I was running things.

Until next time,
The Jim

This is What it's Like Inside My Brain

Because sometimes, you just need a picture of a half-ninja/half-doctor jumping from an explosion with his young, mustached, bandito companion …

(Courtesy of DrMcNinja.com. Check it out, won't you?)

Thank you, Chris Hastings! I needed that.

Until next time,
The Jim

Fun! Fun! Fun!

I have not been in the mood to write lately, as I’m having a terrible week. First of all, last week I was unloading some stuff from my car, so I had the doors unlocked in my driveway. I was making a couple of trips, so it was probably unlocked and open for 8 minutes tops. Within that period, some punk ran off with $500 worth of electronics. The two biggest items were my GPS unit (which my company owns) and my video iPod (which is all me). I put the car in the garage, locked it up, and didn’t discover the theft until the next morning.

This was a capper for a continuously growing dissatisfaction with my neighborhood. When we moved in, this place was supposed to be some great, fabulous neighborhood that was well managed and should be a place you wanted to be. (I guess that’s why I pay more in annual homeowner’s dues than my monthly mortgage at my last house.) Since we’ve moved in, however, I’ve discovered that “fancy neighborhood” rhetoric was worthless. We’ve got trashy neighbors all over the place, and turns out that at least three (3) of the houses are rental properties on just my one block of street.

Now, I don’t mind living in a rental neighborhood. That’s where I lived back in Louisiana, and I had zero problems with it. I shouldn’t, however, be paying an exorbitant amount for the honor of living in that rental neighborhood. Cap that off with the fact that even though the homeowner’s association has TWO MILLION DOLLARS in the bank (above and beyond their capital and operating expenses, which is another $5 million), and it’s a bit much. It gets even better, though … last week, I also got a bill for another $120 homeowner’s fee, which is apparently a one-time fee for all new home purchasers.

I’m also fully aware that there’s no reason to think that someone from the rental houses stole my stuff. All I know is, this is EXACTLY the kind of think I was afraid would happen when I found out about this situation.

And I won’t even get into the crap I’ve had to deal with from their “enforcement” people as I’ve tried to fix up my yard. (I’ll tell that story some other time.) I’ve never lived in a place with a mandatory homeowners group, but I’ll certainly pay a whole lot more attention to it from here on in. I just can’t wait until the wife gets out of school so we can afford to move!

The people with the car insurance won’t cover anything, but they did suggest I file a police report. I didn’t bother originally, because they’ll never track that stuff down - we all know that. Anyway, I call the police this morning, and they send a pair of cops over. One of them was pretty much a prick to me the whole time. He asked me to repeat the story multiple times just to look for inconsistencies. He quite gruffly instructed me to take my hands out of my pockets while talking to him. He pretty much ragged on me for not reporting it sooner, and then after we’re done, he tells me I should report something like that immediately after it happens next time. Of course! Why wouldn’t I want to deal with a condescending, unpleasant SOB again and again?

But that little bit of pleasantness isn’t all of my joy. We moved into our little suburb essentially so I could be close to work. Now I’m being told that we might move our office into Dallas proper, even though we’ve only been in our current location SEVEN MONTHS. So, instead of being 15 minutes from work, I’ll get to spend 2 hours on the road each day getting back and forth to work. I understand moving offices, but moving offices three cities away?

My college football team is not just awful – they may be historically awful. And this was a team that lost a game 77 – 0 within the past 5 years, so that’s saying a lot! Also, my Cowboys apparently forgot that you’re allowed to run the football in the NFL, and completely laid an egg against the ‘Skins.

Want to talk about frustrating? I went ahead and signed up for Weight Watchers online, and have been sticking to it religiously for 1 month. In that time, I’ve managed to gain 1.5 pounds. That’s money well spent, isn’t it?

My wife’s stressed out about school. I’m stressed out because we’re lucky to break even financially each month, but that’s only because we’re borrowing a ton of money for her student loans. And neither one of us handles stress well.

I’m fully aware there are about 4 billion people who have things far worse than me. In the final analysis, I’m complaining about the minor details of my relatively cushy life. Regardless of that reality, though, there’s only so much discussion about TV shows and comic books one wants to have during a week like that. And since I could total up all my readers on 1 hand (even if I was missing a thumb), there wasn’t a whole lot of motivation to put out a post.

But, fear not gentle reader! I plan to hit it hard this week. I’m going to try 3 posts a week this week ... maybe more! Truly, I shall be the Phoenix, rising up from the dookie! (or something like that)

Until next time,
The Jim

TV Time: The Fringe Premiere

Well, I've determined that I'm a big, fat liar! There's no way I can do a post-a-day for 14 days, unless I do 8 over a weekend. And it's not just finding the time to do it ... it's having something to say. Do you realize how boring I am? I'm lucky if I have one good story a week. Moreover, the stupid website provider is on the fritz – again! This is the 4th time I've written this stupid post - and it's not even that good.

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So last week I watched the first episode of Fringe, which has been sitting on the DVR for a while. First of all, I think J. J. Abrams is great. I love Lost, and I was a big fan of Alias before it kinda crapped out at the end. Anyway, I figured I'd at least give his new show a try. I’m not going to spoil it for any of my 3 readers who may not have seen it yet, but I thought I’d provide my thoughts.

As the show opens, we’re on a German airliner as it’s going through a massive thunderstorm. Everything’s all tense, and then everyone on board has their face melt off. (Yeah, I know – pleasant way to start up a series). So the plane lands on autopilot in Boston, and in comes our intrepid hero, Olivia Dunham. She’s an FBI agent on some unnamed special task force, and she also serves as a liaison with Homeland Security, or some such babble. True, it’s not as exciting a job as working at Credit Dauphine, but what are you gonna do?

Not to go off on too much of a tangent, but it came to my attention that of the 4 really successful shows Abrams has developed, 3 of them (including Felicity) have central female characters. And given how much Jack whines on Lost, he’s pretty much a woman too! Ha Ha! Am I right, fellas? (Ah - nothing's more fun than 1950's humor!)

Anyway, as the task force is investigating the creepiness, a random, phoned-in lead comes in. As Agent Liv is pretty low on the totem pole, she gets sent to investigate along with another agent, who also happens to be her Secret Lover. Of course, since this is TV, the random tip happens to lead to something pretty big, and Agent Loverboy gets hurt in an explosion which also exposes him to the same chemicals that caused all the face melting. Luckily, for some convoluted, made up reason, his symptoms are progressing slower. They may be able to save him … if they can find a remedy in time!

After our plucky Agent Cutie gets back to the office, she uses the FBI’s version of Google (Foogle? Fed-gle?) and after struggling through approximately 2 minutes of research, she manages to identify a scientist who may be able to help. He used to perform research on “fringe science” back in the day (nice of them to work the name of the show in there, huh?), but when an accident killed his lab assistant 17 years ago, they locked him up in the crazy house.

Now, for an even more convoluted reason, only a blood relative can authorize a visit to Dr. Nutball (who is played by the crazy dude from Return of the King who tried to burn up his son – apparently he plays crazy well). Luckily, our intrepid heroine manages to track down his son (played by the Other Guy from Dawson’s Creek), and blackmails him to help her with this. Dawson’s Creek Dude is supposed to be some edgy, super-genius who also reluctantly helps with the investigation.

As the show goes on, Agent Not-Sidney-Bristow is told by her boss that there has been a series of weird, hard-to-explain occurrences they call “The Pattern,” and this weirdness may be part of some larger, “fringe science” plot? Of course, there also appears to be a quasi-evil corporation that may be involved. (And just like with Oceanic Airlines and the Dharma Initiative, Abrams managed to put a fake commercial for the company on the air (always a cool touch).


As this episode goes on, they work on saving Liv’s Secret Lover using weirdness (there's a cow involved). At the end, it appears Agent Cutie-Pie, Dr. Insane-o, and The Dawson Guy are going to team up in subsequent episodes to solve different problems involving extreme weirdness. I guess they’re like the A-Team, only without B. A. Baracus, which is about the worst form of the A-Team imaginable.


What did I think? Well, after watching it, I went ahead and set the DVR to record the show – so I obviously enjoyed it. It wasn’t the greatest show ever, and as it stands, it certainly hasn’t moved ahead of Heroes, Lost, or 24 in my viewing rotation. It’s not even all that original, as it’s really a mash-up of X-Files (FBI team, which includes female hottie, investigates paranormal), Alias (female agent involved in conspiracies and paranormal badness), and even some Lost (weirdness and potentially evil corporation). Unlike most of Abrams’s series, I don’t think you’ll have to watch every single one to catch it all; rather, it feels like the episodes will be pretty much stand-alone (at least for a while). I have to admit, though, it shows promise, and I think I would be stupid not to at least stick with it for the first few episodes at least. I mean, the guy gave me Milo Rambaldi and The Smoke Monster - he's going to have something interesting up his sleeve.

Well, that’s all I’ve got. The Heroes premiere is waiting downstairs for me on the DVR, so I’m about to go dig into that thing. Aw yeah, baby!

Until next time,
The Jim

What was I Thinking?

Even though I usually struggle for blog topics, sometimes ideas for future posts spring up on me. Usually, they aren't fully formed thoughts; rather, they're little nuggets of ideas. When that happens, I'll either make a note, or start a draft post to be completed later. Right now, I've got roughly 6 partial posts sitting on the server waiting for me to get off my butt and turn them into cogent thoughts. (Aren't you anxious for that to happen?) Anyway, I only mention this to elucidate the following:

Roughly 10 minutes ago, I was going through my desk drawer in my office, putting something in there to file it away. On top of a stack of scratch paper, I found a ridiculous hand-drawn sketch I made. I remember making it, but for the life of me, I can't remember why. Nor can I recall what potential topic I thought this sketch would perfectly illustrate.

So, without further ado, I present to you ...

MY CERTIFIED MAN CARD

I don't know why I thought this was funny. I don't know where I was going with it. And to look at it now, it's just stupid (and more than a little sad). But more importantly than all that, I just can't help but wonder what kind of insane idea THAT was leading towards.

I guess the world will never know (and we're probably better for it).

Until next time,
The Jim

Nothing but Peace and Tranquility

As I’ve mentioned multiple times, my current job is a small satellite office here in the Dallas area. The company’s headquarters is back in northwest Louisiana. Back at the home office, they have their own relatively new building, and every engineer has his own office. Over here, I’m stuck in a single room on the first floor of a bank building. Did I mention it’s only 300 sf? Did I mention we’re across the hall from an employment agency, so I get endless interruptions from loud conglomerations of people outside? Oh, and did I mention I share the room with someone else?

On our best day over here, the office is uncomfortable. Now they’re renovating the building. Wait, let me correct that … they’re renovating 95% of the building. Our little closet is one of the rooms they won’t fix up. So, instead of being temporarily relocated to another office while all of this is going on, we get to stay in this hovel while a non-stop cacophony of hammers, saws, and other peaceful tunes goes on and on.

If you need to go to the bathroom, time to hit the elevator. If you need to be on the phone, better hope the electrician isn’t in here trying to get the wiring straight EVEN THOUGH IT’S COMPLETELY OBVIOUS I’M TRYING TO MAKE A CALL AND HE DOESN’T NEED TO YELL.

I only bring this up just to let you know that, unless you work in a war zone or a toxic waste dump, your work environment is definitely better than mine.

I win! Yay for me!

Until next time,
The Jim