Olympic Review #1 - The Intro

Several weeks ago, I found myself watching quite a lot of NCAA softball.

Don’t judge me! It’s a pretty slow time as far as sports and TV are concerned, and I still haven’t unpacked my PS2 from the move. Besides, my Aggies were doing well, so I had a rooting interest.

Anyway, the broadcasters noted that this was the last Olympics where softball and baseball will be played. They might come back, but it seems unlikely. As shocking as you may find this, this elimination was the result of a Frenchman who apparently felt that these two sports were overly dominated by Americans. (A Frenchman rudely mistreating Americans? Surely you jest.)

Now, it’s surprising that no one ever planned on banning hockey whenever the Soviet Union won it every time, and it’s OK to have badminton in there despite the fact that there’s only about 4 countries that really care about it. But if there’s a sport that Americans rule … well that has to go!! Has there ever been an Olympic committee chairman who wasn’t a slimy punk? More to the point, though, is the fact that baseball and softball aren’t in the Olympics, but rhythmic gymnastics is. Are you kidding me? How is twirling a ribbon and jumping with a ball a sport? That’s an exhibition, not a sport. If I want to see some interpretive dance crap, I should be going to a theater, not a sporting venue.

With that in mind, I’ve decided to review the Olympic sports and determine which should stay, and which should go. I’ll even review some other sports that may or may not need to be added. Considering the Olympic Committee gives out about a million medals, this will take a while.

So keep your eyes open for Part 2 of this exciting story, where we’ll begin with all things aquatic!

Until next time,
The Jim

I am the Engineering Version of Costanza!

Here’s a classic example as to why my life is a series of bad sitcom moments:

As part of my new job, I have some expanded marketing duties. It doesn’t require much … mostly I’m just introducing the company to whoever will listen, or writing up submittals. In reality, the reason I’m doing that much is because I don’t have a lot of actual work to do right now.

Anyway, as part of these marketing duties, I participated in the local engineering society’s golf tournament. Good cause, raises scholarship money, day off from work … blah blah blah. The only reason I went to this thing was to at least meet one or two people who may be a decent contact in the future.

Don’t get me wrong – I like golf. I just can’t play. I’ve never had the time to learn (except for my one semester of golf in college), and I’m generally uncoordinated anyway. In reality, it’s pretty embarrassing for me to be on the course with anyone who’s even mildly decent. That didn’t matter, though; I needed to suck it up for the company.

When I get there, I find out my foursome is with three guys from CH2M Hill, a huge, multi-national firm. I figured these guys are probably a little out of our league, but they still could be some great resources in the future.

So we’re out playing. I’m about as awful as could be, but I’m enjoying myself nonetheless. The whole time, though, no one has brought up work. After about the 3rd or 4th hole, I decided to be proactive, and here’s how that went:

Me: “So, where exactly is your office located?

Dude #1: “No, no … we’re not with those guys.”

Me: “Really?”

Dude #1: “Yeah. We just know some guy over there, and we wanted to play. I guess they just wanted to have a good turnout.

That guy … he’s a pipe fitter. And my uncle and I are funeral directors.”

Pipe Fitter Guy: “You’re up!”

True, I didn’t make any worthwhile contacts at all; however, if you need some large-scale piping constructed, or if you’re dead, I know some guys!

Until next time,
The Jim

Will Something Actually Happen in "The Happening"?

The following was originally posted on my MySpace account on March 19, 2008. As it was one of my first attempts at posting something, I thought I should at least bring it onto the site. And yes, I'm fully aware it's incredibly weak to start doing reruns on Blog #2, but what can I say? I'm a lazy, lazy, lazy man!

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M. Night Sham-a-lam-a-ding-dong worries me. OK, maybe "worries" is a bit strong - it's not like I spend nights pacing over The Village or anything. It's more like I'm in a dysfunctional relationship with the guy - he's my Ike Turner. True, he's never hit me (yet), but he disappoints me over and over.

It all started with The Sixth Sense. Actually, that's not true … he wrote two screenplays before that: Praying with Anger and Wide Awake. Praying with Anger is apparently an artsy, semi-autobiographical movie about a guy an American guy going back to India to discover his roots. Wide Awake, however, looks like a fantastically brilliant piece of crap. It apparently has Denis Leary AND Rosie O'Donnell (that's about a 15 on the Annoying Scale) in some butt-ass comedy about a kid dealing with loss and growing up and blah-blah-blah. Just look at this picture and tell me that this thing doesn't fill you with mirth and dread at the same time:

(Not pictured: Denis Leary smoking while ranting about something stupid.)

But I've digressed here. The first movie that came to anyone's attention by M. Night was The Sixth Sense. Groundbreaking, brilliant, scary and intense ... it was a horror flick, a ghost story, a thriller, and a film noir mystery all rolled into one. And the surprise ending was well done. Really, it was far more shocking and intense than anything Hitchcock ever did, and that's saying something.

Unfortunately, that ending was the start of the breakdown! Most of the reviews - especially the word-of-mouth ones - completely ignored the great filmmaking, acting, and everything else. All anyone wanted to discuss was that surprising twist at the end.

Bruce Willis is bald! (and dead)

Next we get Unbreakable, which I really liked. It wasn't as good as The Sixth Sense, but it was pretty fun … until we get to the ending. In this one:

Bruce Willis is a

security guard!

(and Superman)

Once Bruce finally accepts that he's stronger than a speeding bear (or whatever his catch phrase was supposed to be), he goes out to fight crime. He eventually saves two kids that have been held captive by some whack job. The next morning, he shows his son (the one who's been pushing him to follow his destiny) an article about the incident in the paper, they share a moment, touching scene, great ending!

Except that it's NOT the ending. Willis goes to see Sam Jackson with a bad afro, shakes his hand, finds out that he's the Lex Luthor of the movie. INCREDIBLE SURPRISE ENDING, WHO SAW THIS COMING, etc., etc. The problem is that, unlike Sixth Sense, there were no real clues to let you know this was coming. You can't watch that movie again and figure out what's going to happen – no way!

Moreover, who cares?!?! The cool scene was the father letting his son in on the secret – and the implication that he was going to continue being some sort of Philadelphia version of Batman. If M. Night flips those two scenes, I put that movie high on my list of All Time Favorites. Instead, the contrived, completely forced ending took me out of it. I was left with the nasty aftertaste of bad filmmaker. (FYI, it tastes like a combination of Uwe Boll and the Magnolia version of Paul Thomas Anderson.)

In Signs, the surprise ending isn't even a surprise ending. All of these weird things surrounding Mel Gibson (apparently the Iowa version of Bruce Willis) end up being the only way he can save his son from the world's dumbest aliens? That's not a twist, that's just a series of incredibly odd coincidences ties together. Moreover, don't get me started on the M. Night cameo appearance!! Hitchcock's cameos were cool, but they were also not crucial parts of the story – he was just in the background. By giving himself a long, poorly-acted pivotal part, Shyamalan apparently was trying for an Oscar in Douchebaggery!

I am so intense and brooding!

Apparently he realized he was losing it in 2004, because he put so many LOOK AT THIS, THIS IS IMPORTANT clues in The Village that you see it coming roughly 30 minutes into the thing. He finally stopped trying to do the surprise ending in Lady in the Water, but he manages to make that one annoying by casting himself as some sort of combination of Martin Luther King, Jr., John F. Kennedy, and Jesus. I like to call the amalgamation Jesus Luther Kennedy, and if I could draw, I'd post a picture of him in action. I like to envision him killing a bear … with PEACE!

Seriously, though - how can I take a movie seriously, especially a bizarre, what-is-going-on movie, when the heroine's chief mission is to show the writer/director how important he is to the world. How big are this guy's balls anyway?

Behold the greatness of my dead-in-the-eyes stare!

So now we have The Happening opening soon, where Marky Mark (apparently the train-riding, Bostonian version of Bruce Willis) has to deal with whatever world-wide catastrophe is taking place. In the end, it'll probably turn out to all be a dream, or it's a hoax on TV, or there's a deadly weapon created by our own government, or everyone on the train is actually dead, or some other ridiculous bologna.

But here's the sad part – I KNOW I'm going to go see it. There's no doubt in my mind. I'll walk in, plunk down my $80 (or whatever it takes to see a movie these days) and watch a film I have every expectation will end up being stupid. And why? Because he made 1.9 great movies, that's why. Really, there are some wonderful parts in all of those flicks, so it's probably more like 2.6 great movies total. A part of me keeps hoping he'll turn it around. I did the same thing with George Lucas. Every time I left one of the "prequel" Star Wars flicks, I was grossly disappointed … and yet I kept going back, hoping Lucas would stop being so insane and stop ruining a great franchise. As much as I bitch about crappy films, I still go see things like this.

So the moral of our story is simple … I am, as always, a dope!

Until next time,

The Jim

P.S. Iron Man rocked! That is all.

A New Hope

Welcome, my fellow rapscallions!

Today is a great day in the course of human events. For today, I have deigned to start my blog.

Yes, yes ... I know the emotions must be too much for all of you to bear, but bear it you must.

Now, I can't imagine I'll have any kind of consistent theme. Instead, I'll just ramble on and on about whatever subject I fancy until such time as I get bored.

Until next time,

The Jim