Hey, thanks for coming down to see us today...

Last week I was informed that I would be on a committee to review applicants for a new position at the office. Just in case, I thought I should write up a few interview questions:

1. Where do you see yourself in five years?
2. Where do you see me in five years?
3. What am I thinking?
4. Are you a sock-sock-shoe-shoe guy, or a sock-shoe-sock-shoe guy?
5. Have you ever peed with no hands?
6. If I asked you to perform the same task twice in the same day, would you tell me? How about if I asked you five times? How about if I asked you five times?
7. Tell me your life story in thirty seconds. Ready, go!
8. If I got in a fist-fight with another employee at our monthly staff meeting, would you try to break it up, or would you have my back?
9. I’m thinking of a number between 1 and 100. Have you ever dressed up in women’s clothing?
10. How do you feel when I pour this fish-chum in your lap?
11. Do you now, or have you ever owned an album by Neil Diamond?
12. What is the best solution to the immigration problem?
13. Did Saddam have weapons of mass-destruction?
14. A student runs into your office on fire. Do you try to help them, or do you page the TA’s, since they are responsible for classroom management?
15. How do you feel about inter-office dating? Do you find me attractive?
16. Suppose you get a call every day for three weeks asking for a person that doesn’t work in our office. Suppose you tell them every time they call that that person doesn’t work here, and they need to take our phone number off their list. At what point do you stop being polite, and when you cross that line, do you A) Just hang up on them, B) Swear at them, C) Pretend to be the person they are looking for?
17. Suppose a center regular tries to establish an unofficial residence at an available desk in your office, and proceeds to kick back and make calls and do random tasks even though you have no professional connection to them whatsoever. What do you say when they try to get you to take messages for them?
18. Is it ethical to spend more than ten minutes trying to roll a stress ball down a hallway, through the student break room, across another hallway, and into the office of your staff accountant in one throw?
19. When the plant lady comes in to water our foliage and she asks you for the master key so she can get into the director’s office, do you wait by his door until she finishes or do you let her do her thing unsupervised, cause no one would want to steal a bunch of books about business theory anyway?
20. You are going to lunch with the student advisor, the night manager, and the director. The student advisor is driving, so do you give the director shotgun? Even if the night manager has been sending you e-mails threatening to stick you with a letter opener if you don’t stay at least ten feet away from him at all times?
21. One of your coworkers is a test-tube baby, and thus has no true birthday. How do you choose to celebrate around the office?
22. You suspect that one of your co-workers is lighting doobies on his smoke breaks, but you also notice that your supervisor seems to be a big fan of Bob Marley. How do you address the issue?
23. One of the TA’s confesses that they are a secret plant from the University of Utah sent to research and sabotage the Alternative Route to Licensure Program. Do you blow the whistle, or use the info to blackmail the spy into getting you season tickets to U of U athletic events?
24. The copy machine has been making a suspicious ticking noise for the past ten minutes, but you don’t know if you’re just suffering the after-effects of the rock festival you called in sick to attend yesterday. Do you call attention to the noise, and potentially save the center from certain terrorist annihilation, or do you keep your mouth shut and make a mental note to bring earplugs to next year’s festival?
25. Six months from now, while using the restroom, you overhear a conversation that informs you that you are in stiff head-to-head competition with one other co-worker for a major promotion. Twenty minutes later, that same co-worker calls you from a vacant lot in Springville, Utah, incoherent and asking you to cover for them until they can find their clothes and make it in to the office. What do you do?

Time to get the "Eye of the Tiger"!

The time has come to repair our nation’s image at home and abroad. For too long we have slaved under the unjust weight of critical oppression, but at last we have a solution: we change our National Anthem to Survivor’s immortal classic, “Eye of the Tiger”.

Who better to turn to than Sylvester Stallone when we need to repair our national image? Who better to trust with the pulse of America than the man who single-handedly won the support of millions of Americans with “Rocky III”, “Rocky IV”, and “Over the Top”? “Eye of the Tiger” was the greatest of all the great Rocky songs, and will be the key to restoring America’s place atop international approval polls.

So-called “purists” may call this idea heretical, but do we really want to listen to those that would have us roll around in wagons and burn witches? How can we hold our heads high on the world stage when we sing a national anthem written by a guy named Francis? Our insistence on using the Star-Spangled Banner at sporting events has given us Roseanne Barr and Carl Lewis. This cannot continue.

“Eye of the Tiger” is a superior rock anthem because it features more electric guitars and drums. All of my friends think “Eye of the Tiger” is a much more inspirational song, and I have no doubt most Americans feel the same way. Remember, it was only after “Eye of the Tiger” that Communism was defeated in Eastern Europe!

We should also heed the example of another American hero: David Hasselhoff. Europeans will never embrace us until we go with what we know, and what we know is that David Hasselhoff can move Germans in a way Francis Scott Key never will. He already moved the world with “Baywatch”. Now tell me: who is more likely to do a cover of “Eye of the Tiger” for the European market, Francis or the Hoff? Clinging to stodgy tradition is clearly not the way to go in this case. We must embrace the juggernaut that is our popular culture, and satisfy the needs of our people. You can’t tell me that if “Eye of the Tiger” went up against “The Star-Spangled Banner” on “American Idol” that “Tiger” wouldn’t wipe the floor with the Banner. Plus it would fit with today’s all-important retro trend.

If we don’t make this adjustment, the world will continue to hate us and view us as a sad relic of the past, just like Al Davis. Kim Jung Il will have no choice but to blow us away with that nuke of his, and by the time that happens, we will be caught with our knickers down because we will be bopping around in our powdered wigs trying to get the blacksmith to fix all our wood-burning stoves.

You still may be hesitant to leave behind such an American icon as our out-dated anthem. Well let me tell you about the time the lead singer of Survivor saved my life. One time last year I was walking down the street listening to “Eye of the Tiger” on my iPod, and while I was in the middle of my air-guitar solo, I almost stepped in front of an ice cream truck. But this guy reached out at the last second and tapped me on the shoulder before I stepped off the curb. The guy was the lead singer from Survivor! I could tell because he had on a Survivor T-Shirt from their world tour in Africa. He was just pushing a shopping cart around picking up garbage, doing his patriotic duty to keep America clean. And when he turned around, I saw that his jeans had big holes in the butt, so you could see this huge tattoo of the American flag on his cheeks. I ask you, who else but a true patriot would tattoo Old Glory on his buttocks? Complete with all fifty stars and thirteen stripes, eh?

If we want America to survive, we have to go with Survivor.

An Open Letter to my Ex-Credit Card Company

Dear DMBA,

I am writing this letter to formally request that you terminate account # XXXX-XXXX-XXXX-XXXX. I have met another credit card company that is much better at meeting my needs, and no longer need your services.

I do not wish to be rude, but after nearly twelve years together, I feel I should explain my reasons for terminating our relationship. In fact, it is the longevity of our relationship that makes some of your recent policies so frustrating to me.

Here, then, is a list of the reasons I have left you. I list them not to be vindictive, but in the hope that such feedback will help you to better adapt your services for your future relationships.

1. I find it irritating that after twelve years of loyal service, I have found my interest rate steadily rising, not falling, over the last six months. While I may have a variable-rate policy, my credit record with your company should more than allow for some sort of benefit.
2. I find it even more irritating that you insist on charging me $15 every time I try to make a payment by phone in order to come in under my deadline. Every other company I do business with allows these kinds of services at no charge.
3. On the few occasions I have had to make a late payment (never more than a week, mind you), I have been served with a $40 late charge. There has never been a grace period, and $40 is usually more than the minimum payment on my balance.
4. Speaking of my balance, it seems strange to me that my interest rate would continue to rise when my balance remains such a small fraction of my limit. Now, I do appreciate having a generous limit—enough to pick up a BMW if I were a more frivolous spender—but wouldn’t that in turn suggest that I have been a reliable customer, deserving of a lower rate?
5. It also disturbs me to find that while my interest rate continues to climb, my bill due date continues to move earlier and earlier in the month. With all of my monthly bills and obligations, it would be nice to rely on the same date each month, thereby ensuring that I get my bill mailed to you on time. But when you factor in your heavy fine toll, this circumstance makes it look as if you are deliberately trying to increase your revenue through late fees.
6. This is a small complaint, but nevertheless one you should heed: I have come to expect a number of throw-away ads to be enclosed with my bill, but the perforated ad slips that are attached to the return envelope DRIVE ME CRAZY. Please do your customers a favor and discontinue them. If they want to redeem the coupon and get their free clock radio/throw pillow/commemorative Iwo Jima dinner plate, they will mail in the other slip stuck in the envelope.

While transferring my account to my new company, I paid off my balance to MBNA in slight excess in order to compensate for finance charges, and I should have a small credit on my account of about eighteen dollars. I assume you will send me a check for this balance along with my notice of account termination.

Again, I hope this letter proves useful to your customer service department in altering your future policies. For the most part, my time with DMBA was very workable, but the culmination of policies like those listed above leave me no choice but to find greener pastures. Please do not try to get me to re-commit to future membership; I’ve found that in these situations, it’s better to give the other party plenty of space.

Best,

Josh

Official Wounded Mosquito NBA Preview

Your source for second-rate hearsay journalism…

Atlanta Hawks: Does anyone know who owns these guys now? Do they even have any players? Do you think Michael Vick’s little brother could get a tryout at the point as a personal favor?
Prediction: At halftime of their March 3rd head-to-head matchup with the Knicks, Isiah Thomas trades Renaldo Balkman and 15 million dollars to the Hawks for twelve boxes of smores-flavored granola bars and a weekend stay at a day spa in some town in Mississippi.

Boston Celtics: Is Red Auerbach still alive? Is Robert Parrish still available? Are there really twelve jersey numbers that haven’t been retired by this team?
Prediction: The Patriots go in the tank cause they don’t have Vinatieri to bail out their butts with cheap field goals.

Chicago Bulls: Dennis Rodman insulted my people, and Michael Jordan stole two NBA titles from the Jazz by telepathically causing Karl Malone to miss his free throws and then pushing off of Byron Russell the next season. Karma is real: just ask the Zen Master.
Prediction: Ben Wallace dies in a tragic plane crash with John Mayer and The Big Bopper.

Cleveland Cavaliers: Current marketing campaign for LeBron: the “I am a witness” thing. Yeah, I was a witness. I witnessed The Drive, I witnessed The Fumble, and I witnessed Art Modell steal one of sport’s most beloved franchises and win a Super Bowl with it under the guidance of a guy who may or may not have stabbed two people to death that same weekend.
Prediction: 2nd Round, with a heartbreaking Game 7 loss after a shot by a fellow who in the right light looks just like Michael Jordan.

Charlotte Bobcats: How many bobcats are there in Charlotte? Does any NBA mascot/logo make any sense anymore? Oh well, I think Charlotte has a really good rebounder. Oh, wait...that’s Orlando. Charlotte drafted the other guy.
Prediction: Team leaves Charlotte at end of season…again.

Dallas Mavericks: My old roommate looks just like Dirk.
Prediction: Mark Cuban is abducted by aliens, and somehow profits 2.3 billion dollars off the experience.

David Hasselhoff: The days of “Baywatch” fame are long gone, but Hasselhoff is still a solid perimeter player with serious upside. Plus he may have the potential to become Dirk’s toughest defender.
Prediction: The guy became an icon hanging out with a talking car, entertaining Germans, and building the greatest international TV hit of all time by splicing together shots of lifeguards running on the beach in slow-motion. How could we possibly know what is going to happen next?

Denver Nuggets: I really, really, really hate those baby blue uniforms. I really, really, really hate the fact that Andre Miller blew us off three years ago and signed with these guys instead of the Jazz. And I really, really, really refuse to say anything good about a team that plays in the same town as the Broncos.
Prediction: John Elway roasts in the fires of Hell.

Detroit Pistons: These guys were great, and then they lost the guy with the killer ‘fro. Sounds like the folks are gonna have to listen to their Smokey Robinson records this winter if they want to stay warm.
Prediction: 0-82, good for fifth place in the Eastern Conference Standings.

Golden State Warriors: Back in 1988, I braced myself for the first ever run to the finals by my beloved Jazz. Then they got swept by Don Nelson’s Warriors in the first round. In spite of this, I find Nellie to be an oddly appealing figure, almost Santa-like.
Prediction: Nah, screw him—Warriors won’t break .500.

Harlem Globetrotters: The outlook is pensive after some marginal free agent signings and a weak draft, but the Globetrotters should still manage to put together a decent season, since they play the Washington Generals 75 times.
Prediction: One appearance on “The Simpsons”, two on “Oprah”, and their own reality television show on FOX as a mid-season replacement.

Houston Rockettes: If Tracy McGrady can coax some more wins out of the Rockets, he might avoid becoming the Dominique Wilkins of his generation. If Jeff Van Gundy grows a moustache and picks up a nice new toupee, he might stand a chance at becoming the Gomez Addams of his.
Prediction: Yao Ming grows five inches, and his scoring average dips to 11.3 points per game.

Indiana Pacers: Larry Bird can rest assured that Stephen Jackson is committed to doing his darnedest to fill the Ron Artest void.
Prediction: Bird brings back the nasty moustache and curly mullet-thing by mid-season, thus erasing that meddling Adam Morrisson from existence completely.

Los Angeles Lakers: Kobe just changed his jersey number from 8 to 24 so he can show people he’s on his game 24 hours a day. Or maybe that’s his commercials.
Prediction: You hate Mamba because he’s arrogant. You hate Mamba because he’s rich. You hate Mamba because he has hundreds of fans that live in your home state and come to your home facility and cheer for the opposing team in pansy yellow jerseys.

Memphis Grizzlies: Kirilenko may have gotten the pimp daddy press last year thanks to his wife, but Pau Gasol’s got the swingin’ beard to put him on top of the “foreign dude” list this season.
Prediction: Grizzlies go in the tank after Kirilenko brings back the Mohawk.

Miami Heat: In spite of winning his fourth ring, no one really believes Shaq’s crew was the best team in the league last year. That might have made Shaq mad back in the day, but this year he’ll probably blow it off and buy a private island somewhere in the Manhattan area.
Prediction: 2nd round loss to someone that isn’t as good as Wade.

Milwaukee Bucks: I went to the University of Utah, but even I had trouble putting the name Bogut up there with Kareem, Wilt, and Russell. My vote is they try to get that sausage race thing going at halftime.
Prediction: -75 with the wind chill, flurries but no real snow.

Minnesota Timberwolves: It’s just wrong for Kevin McHale to be heavily involved in a team other than the Celtics, just like it’s wrong that Meg Ryan and Dennis Quaid ever split up. Kevin Garnett suffers from both of these trials on a daily basis.
Prediction: With his children on the brink of starvation, Latrell Sprewell returns to Minnesota in time to boost them to a 24-58 record.

New Jersey Nets: I read this article that said New Jersey had one of the highest average salaries in the United States. All the more reason for Toronto to send assassins for Vince Carter’s head.
Prediction: .500 season until All-Star break, when Jason Kidd decides to go Jim Brown and pursue an acting career.

New Orleans/Oklahoma City Saints: Sorry folks, but Reggie Bush doesn’t play basketball.
Prediction: Chris Paul makes the All-Star team, the rest of the team leaves in the first round.

New York Knicks: As unbelievable a ride as it’s been, kids, it’s just about to get even better. The Knicks still have Marbury and Francis in the same backcourt, and Isiah just took over as Head Coach.
Prediction: On a cold night in February, the cast of “Spamalot” takes the court in place of the team, and no one notices.

Orlando Magic: People used to think JJ Redick was just another jerk from Duke. But now with a DUI on his rap sheet, he’s got the street cred he needs to be a leader in the NBA.
Prediction: Florida is sold back to the Spanish in November, and Dwight Howard averages 56 rebounds a game in the European leagues.

Philadelphia Sixers: It must be interesting to be Allen Iverson these days. You’ve spent your entire career being the feisty, short underdog punk for one team, and after they spend the summer trying to trade you, you’re back with them for another season.
Prediction: Iverson averages 79 points and 133 attempts per game, Philly goes 15-67.

Phoenix Suns: See Detroit Pistons. You lose iconic hair, you go down the tubes.
Prediction: 38-44, and Arizona residents continue to use rocks for their front lawns.

Portland Trailblazers: Years ago these guys were the overpaid bad boys of the NBA. Years before that they had the classiest non-bad boy backcourt in the league. Years before that, Lewis and Clark hit the Pacific, and had nowhere else to go.
Prediction: 20-life with a possibility of parole.

Sacramento Kings: Last year he went AWOL to promote a rap album and shaved his recording label into his head. The year before that he led the greatest sports riot of all time, unless you count every weekend in Oakland between September and December. All I know is that Ron Artest aims to please.
Prediction: By early December, Artest shows up at midcourt naked brandishing a pair of M-16’s while the stadium PA plays “The Revolution Will Not Be Televised”.

San Antonio Spurs: As impartial as he seems to be, one would expect Tim Duncan to have walked away from the sport Barry Sanders-like already, not to pursue an acting career, not to pursue a baseball career, just to pretty much do nothing. But he’s still around.
Prediction: Tony Parker hooks up with Jessica Alba in early January, propelling the Spurs to an 80-2 record, and a nation holds its breath in anticipation of another boring finals.

Seattle Supersonics: There’s no ingredient for winning quite like playing out your last games before leaving town in front of an apathetic, coffee-chugging crowd that’s still bent that the grunge era is over.
Prediction: 20-62, and the Mariners lose another future All-Star

Toronto Raptors: Once I went to the Canadian side of Niagra Falls and ate at the Hard Rock Café. I was confused about whether to tip in Canadian dollars or American dollars, but when I asked about it, my waitress was offended. If that’s the kind of service you get in Canada, how good can their basketball teams be?
Prediction: Eastern Conference Finals, based entirely on Charlie Villenueva’s continuing rage after his draft day humiliation.

Utah Jazz: I spent $168 to go in with two co-workers for season tickets at the Delta Center up in the cheap seats this year. So Larry, your boys had better produce. And I’d better start finding some dates.
Prediction: Back in the playoffs for the first time in four years, then probably swept by Don Nelson’s fantasy team.

Washington Bullets: I was just in DC last weekend, and they’ve still got signs around town that give you directions to the MCI Center, even though it’s been renamed the Verizon Center. Can you hear me now?
Prediction: Republicans take a hit in November, but Demo’s fail to take charge because none of the new representatives can figure out how to get in from Dulles.

And finally…

Los Angeles Clippers: Sam Cassell is the corollary to the Pistons/Suns hair woes of 2007: preserving your shaved head by consequence preserves your alien-like mystique, and that little dance you do, while considered borderline obscene by most communities, seems to work for Billy Crystal.

Prediction: The secret love child of Kurt Rambis and Hulk Hogan leads the Clippers to the 2007 NBA title.

An Open Letter to Casting Directors Everywhere...

Dear (insert name of casting director),

I am pleased to introduce the newest addition to my impressive stable of actor/models:The Professor. He is a spectacular new prospect that is eager to bring a wealth of talent to your projects and a wealth of profits to your pockets.

You have undoubtedly already seen Josh in the critically-acclaimed “Church Ball”, which was recently released on DVD. Josh joined an all-star cast that featured Gary Coleman, Fred Willard, Ron Howard’s brother, and that guy with the moustache from the Wes Anderson movies that is related to Owen Wilson.

This riveting film deconstructs the enigma of church recreation league basketball. Josh is himself a longtime church basketball veteran, and his real-life experience is more than evident in his on-screen work.

Here are just two examples:

Exhibit A takes place early in the third act of the film. Here we see Josh in the lower-right corner of the frame, enthusiastically applauding the arrival of the home team. See the emotion he resonates through a triumphant upraised arm, signaling victory to his beloved squad!

Exhibit B comes a bit later on, after the Mud Lake squad takes the title. This time Josh demonstrates his versatility by appearing in the left side of the frame, joyously congratulating co-star Fred Willard, who is obscured by upraised hands. (Fred’s endorsement quote was unavailable at press time).

Aside from his film work, Josh is also a veteran of the stage. In 1994 he was named Actor of the Year for Viewmont High School. Josh is a meticulous artist and craftsman. He once wrote a 168-page screenplay about Kung Fu and brine shrimp, and his short film entry to the 2003 USU 5^th Stake Road Show won “Best Acting”. Now is clearly the time to jump on this talent.

From the enclosed still frames you will notice that Josh is bald. But don’t let that fool you. Josh has made it quite clear to me that he has no intention of settling into mere character roles. In truth, he has received multiple compliments on the shape of his head, which could be described as “globe-like”. He boasts spectacular eyelashes and lips, and is eager to try his hand at romantic leads. He is most excited to work with Jessica Alba and the girl that plays Kate from “Lost”, but is also willing to work with Halle Berry. He has also suggested several of the Utah Jazz Dancers as up-and-coming talents.

I anticipate he will get very busy very fast after his recent star-making turn, so the sooner you call me the better. The time to cast Josh is now. In fact, it might be smart to have a couple of movies in mind instead of just one, cause I’m sure he’ll want to go after the more lucrative offers. A list of his favorite foods and preferred amenities is attached.

Thank you,

Mike Dubek
Dubek Models and Talent

PS: My office line will be disconnected until Friday between 8am and 3pm.

In honor of YouTube's 1.6 billion score: two brilliant segments...

This little segment is from overseas...

This one is also from overseas...those guys is pretty funny.

Would you like to Super-Size that monitor?

Say what you want about “Godfather III”, Coppolla got one thing right: that moment when Michael Corleone realizes that in spite of all his efforts to legitimize the family business, only to find out that his ties to the mafia will never be severed. Michael clenches his fists and exclaims in vintage Pacino gusto, “every time I think I’m out, they PULL ME BACK IN.”

This is how I feel every time I try to make a purchase in the world of technology. Whether I’m shopping online, standing in CompUSA, or staring out over a brilliant sunset while weighing the value of the Canon S3 IS SuperZoom Digital Camera, I always have this little voice in my head, repeating the same phrase over and over:

“Can I value size that for you?”

Buying anything these days is just a variation on the world of fast food. You can never feel comfortable with what you want to buy, because you always know that if you can just eke out a little more cash, you can score a much better value. It’s the same with cars, cameras, and hamburgers.

It’s worst with computers. Buying a computer is like being a fair weather Cubs fan: you can never pick the right season to get on the bandwagon. You’re not even sure there will be a right season.

Somehow I’ve managed to use the same Mac desktop for the last six and a half years. If the dog-year-to-people-year ratio is seven to one, the computer-year-to-people-year ratio is seventy to one. That makes my G4 about 500 years old.

So now I’m looking for a new model to satisfy my insatiable techno-geek needs. This time around I need a DVD burner, some video editing software, more hard drive space, and enough expansion capacity to assure me the thing won’t be obsolete before I get out of the parking lot. I’ve at least got to make it to my own driveway.

Pretty much anything I buy new today is going to be a tremendous boost over what I’m currently running, so you’d think my decision would be easy. However, the usual questions still seem to crop up: is it expandable? Do I need the extended warranty? What if I decide to run two monitors? What if aliens land and threaten my life if I can’t provide them a DIMM card with at least 512MB of RAM?

One of my biggest hold-ups was price. Even if I could afford to throw $1500 at a new computer, I didn’t like the idea of doing it. I may not be dating Kate from “Lost” now, but what if I had to buy her an engagement ring? One big advantage this time around is that instead of using a school loan, I’ll be slapping down hard cash for this chunk of hardware. I just didn’t want the cash to outweigh the chunk.

For a while I thought I had my winner: the 1.83 Intel Duo Mac Mini, checking in around $850 with the requisite RAM upgrade. Sucker is barely bigger than the Sony Car Discman I had as a junior in high school, the technological fossil equivalent of a Stegosaurus these days. It’s just the entry-level Mac, but even with such small size, the Mini looked like the winner.

Then payday arrived, and I was faced with the reality of buying a computer with built-in limitations. A geek-crisis followed, and now I’m thinking of buying a refurbished 20-inch iMac with a lot more hard drive space, speed, and a pretty flat screen monitor for $1200 instead. It sounds kind of backwards, but I feel a lot more comfortable spending $1200 on the iMac than $900 on the Mini. It’s kind of like spending $90 on basketball shoes you know are going to be solid instead of $35 on shoes you never liked in the first place.

I made that purchase last February.

Of course, the iMac isn’t nearly as upgradable as the Mac flagship, the MacPro tower, even though the tower costs twice as much. Still, it’s reasonable to consider that down the road the tower will still prove useful even if the iMac is getting ready for the Centerville DI shelf. So maybe throwing an extra grand or two at the MacPro is really the smart way to go. But then again, the tower doesn’t come with a monitor, so I’d have to spend at least $700 to get a 20-inch flat screen. Even though they just lowered the price of the 30-inch cinema display to $2000…

Looks like Kate is gonna have to wait for that ring.

Every time I think I’m out…

More weirdness from YouTube...

DON'T READ BELOW UNTIL YOU'VE WATCHED THE WHOLE CLIP

Ok, highlights from what has to be one of the strangest clips I've seen so far on YouTube (and that's saying a lot--David Hasselhoff alone deserves his own spinoff site).

Kudos to Mike Bohman for bringing this little fellow into my life.

1. The footage is too grainy to tell for sure (perhaps this is a good thing), but I can't tell if this is a little kid or an Indian version of Gary Coleman. Either way, the little dude can dance, and the perma grin and those sparkling whites are priceless.

2. While the obvious focus is the little dude, don't miss the other dudes grooving along with him.

3. In the middle of your hypnotic trance, the mother figure comes out of nowhere and shuffles everyone off like they're tormenting a cat or something--and the dad hides his smoke.

4. My favorite part: the first time the camera switches to the side angle, the dancer is moving in slow-motion...or so we think. Suddenly he speeds up his groove, and you realize the kid was deliberately dancing in slow-motion, and the camera had nothing to do with it.

5. Most tragic/comic moment: while you're still shaking your head from the dance, the kid comes back out and starts telling the dad how it is. Defeated, the guy relinquishes his smoke to the kid, who takes a drag like he's in a Marlboro commercial, and the clip ends suddenly. What the--?

I can only imagine the original context of this clip. Or maybe that would kill the enigmatic quality that makes it so, so...

I'm sorry. I still don't know what to make of this thing.

Lots of lines for Franco in "Flyboys"

"Flyboys"
2 1/2 stars out of 4

“Flyboys” is the latest “Pearl Harbor”-style attempt to merge the overdramatic big dumb action movie with the violent reality of shockers like “Saving Private Ryan”. I enjoyed the movie, but I can’t help feeling that all this technique does is alienate both ends of the spectrum. It’s too violent for families, but too hokey for hard-core folks.

Regardless of how the film does, it had to come as a relief for actor James Franco, who plays the lead hotshot pilot. “Spiderman II” was a great movie, but all Franco got to do was show up in random friend scenes and make out-of-place bitter Spiderman references. In “Flyboys”, Franco gets to fly airplanes, kiss French girls, and hardly ever has to bring up Spiderman.

The premise of the story is…well, it’s about a bunch of World War I fighter pilots that try to shoot down German airplanes. That’s it. Naturally, the good guys are a bunch of colorful misfits from diverse backgrounds. There’s “rich kid trying to make his dad happy” guy, “All-American boy that gets shell-shocked” guy, “poor orphan farm kid” guy (Franco), “black underdog ex-boxer” guy, and “possible German spy and eventual amputee” guy.

The best one is “ultra conservative Christian” guy, who embodies every tired stereotype of religious Americans today. According to “Flyboys”, everyone who believes in the Bible makes constant references to it in their daily speech, looks like Ollie from “Hoosiers”, and sings “Onward Christian Soldiers” while he shoots down the bad guys.

Of course, the cast wouldn’t be complete without “brooding bad boy” guy, the seasoned vet that goes out on solo runs to try to shoot down the Germans responsible for killing his original squad-mates.

That’s the goofiest thing about this movie: not the revenge thing, the idea that these pilots pretty much came and went as they pleased. At one point in the movie Franco gets in trouble for flying off to rescue his French girlfriend, but there’s no serious threat, since brooding bad boy guy has been coming and going at random for the whole movie. Then the hit man from “Professional” gives Franco a medal for it anyway.

This movie only works in a “turn off my brain” kind of way. The action was well-done, and outside of brooding bad boy guy’s pet lion (!), the CGI didn’t look too fake. My only serious gripe was the failure to use “Kashmir” on the soundtrack for the scene when the flyboys attack the German Zeppelin.

For all of the dedicated family men that will read this, (I don’t think any family women will…I don’t think any women read this blog at all, really), I have to issue a word of warning due to the violent content of the film. For a movie that plays off like “Memphis Belle”, bringing up swelling music for simple horseback rides, some of the air battles are pretty bloody. Not “Saving Private Ryan” bloody, but “did that guy just get shot in the eye?” bloody. Franco also goes Jack Bauer on a guy’s forearm, but it happens off-screen.

Outside of the violence, “Flyboys” is rated PG-13 for scenes of Franco making out with the French gal, some profanity, and having to watch the Christian dude forsake his rigid standards so he can get plastered with the boys.

An Open Letter to George Lucas

Dear Mr. Lucas,

Last night I watched my roommate’s brand-new copy of Episode IV on DVD. Not the Special Edition one, the bonus disc that has the original version we saw in the theaters.

I have to say, I’m pretty bummed.

I’m writing to you because I feel very conflicted over the way you’ve handled the Star Wars franchise over the last few years, and I want you to know my feelings on the matter. Sure, my feelings may not matter more than the other 500 million Star Wars fans in the world, nor may they matter more than the 500 billion dollars you’ve made off your pet project in the last thirty years. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t pay attention.

Just so you know, I’m a lifelong fan of your work. “Star Wars” came out six months after I was born, and I can’t even remember seeing it in the theater, though my parents maintain I was scared of the Jawas. Darth Vader apparently was no problem.

For the first ten years of my life, I spent a good portion of my free time pretending to be Han Solo, as evidenced by the enclosed photograph. I consider my second grade Han Solo costume to be my second-greatest Halloween costume achievement, next to last year’s pimp outfit, but that’s only because you can’t deny the power of a big fuzzy white coat.

My point is this: “Star Wars” is your creation, and you have all the rights and privileges associated with that ownership. But millions of your fans consider the films to be a part of our childhood, and in a sense, that makes it our movie, too. In the sense that we paid for your multi-billion dollar fortune, that makes it our movie also.

We know you don’t like the original versions of the movies. We know you cut out certain scenes—like the ones where Luke talks to Biggs—because they didn’t fit. (They actually give “Star Wars” an “American Graffiti” feel, which is kind of interesting). But would it betray your sense of artistic ownership to offer up a decent version of what we knew growing up? The versions on the new DVD’s suck. They’re all grainy, and they look like they’re being broadcast on TV. Why not restore the originals and throw in some deleted scenes as a bonus? Don’t you think we’d shell out the money for them? I used to have Han Solo underwear, for Pete’s sake. Making a concession to a devoted fan base isn’t selling out; it’s making an investment.

If you keep moving in the direction you’re headed, people are going to start saying “George Lucas is the best and worst thing to ever happen to ‘Star Wars’.” Actually, they are saying that on Amazon.com. My worry is that you’re going to become the film version of Al Davis. Both of you are headquartered in the Bay Area. Both of you have strange affections to clothing styles (you to flannel, Al to jump suits). And both of you are cultivating the image of an aging maverick rebel who refuses to listen to those around him.

We know you fought the studios to win your autonomy, George. Don’t become a studio yourself.

Sincerely,

Josh

PS: Han shot Greedo first.

All linked up with no place to go

Seriously, who wouldn't want to return an e-mail from this smile?

Confession time: Last month I joined 50,000 fellow Mormons on ldslinkup.com. At the time I told myself I was doing it to increase my employment opportunities; namely, to get more people to read this blog.

But we all know the truth.

It always seemed absurd that while living in Davis County—the upper left ventricle of the Mormon Heartland—I would ever have to look online for dating opportunities. Six years ago I posted a temporary profile on ldssingles.com after a friend showed me all the cute girls on the site (he married one six months later). Three days later I stumbled onto my own profile and was so disgusted I never logged on again.

Something changed.

Most people cringe at the thought of telling friends and family that they met their spouse online. I was one of them, but nowadays I just don't care. Whether I meet my wife online, at church, or at WalMart, the net result is the same. Who am I to resist this high-tech, modern culture of ours? Why deliberately cut options? Why else would I still be accepting blind dates?

Six weeks into my fling, here's the initial report:

Friends: 49
Endorsements written: 21
Endorsements received: 5
Unsolicited e-mails sent: 7
Girls who've responded: 3
Dates: 0
Seizures from reading other profiles: 1,578

One reason I justified signing up was that I'm a better writer than a conversation-starter. I might make a better first impression with my wit than with my shaved head. But so far the online dating scene is about the same as the regular one. You interact with people you already know, you give more love (friend endorsements) than you get, and half the girls you try to contact pretend you don't exist.

You can try to e-mail people you at least have common friends with, but there’s really no way to navigate the site without feeling like a stalker. And how do I know I’m not trying to date roommates? Again?

It’s a lot like Social Amway. The ultra-high-maintenance girls have “friend lists” stocked with beefcake churro salesmen. The beefcakes stock their lists with ultra-high-maintenance girls. The endorsement comments make you feel like you have a better shot at getting in Robert DeNiro’s “circle of trust” than of actually getting a date.

To be fair, I've gotten my share of unsolicited invitations, too. Mostly via the QuickNote—a pre-written comment you can send without the undue stress of typing "hello". According to most profiles it’s the single most hated feature of the site. A few QuickNotes and some unseemly invitations have kept me honest in the “no one loves me” department.

My sister’s experience makes mine look tame. Within hours of signing up she almost pulled her profile after guys from overseas started sending her romantic overtures that may or may not have involved green cards and naturalization. I guess when you’re thousands of miles away, you can afford to take a few risks.

It seems in the online dating world, just as in the real dating world, it doesn't really matter what you say or do, cause if the person is into you, you can do no wrong, but if they aren't, you can do no right.

Still, joining Ldslinkup has been my best new source of humor since joining the XCel gym last February. Sometimes I'll surf along, marveling at the asinine things people post on their profiles. There’s more preening and posturing than on an episode of “Elimidate”. Many indicate they’re only on to “keep in touch”, but spend three paragraphs giving detailed descriptions of their future spouse. Some of these same profiles claim to already have a spouse. Others are so jammed with “lol’s” and “UR’s” they look like HTML code. And the photos must be seen to be believed.

Some of the profiles are obviously fake. For example, I am currently "friends" with a hot dog vendor in New York. Why he chose to add me to his friend list I will never know, but I was grateful for the laugh.

Ultimately, the site has been useful in reconnecting with friends I haven't seen in a while. "Staying in touch" seems to be the principle value of the site, as well as the most frequent justification for membership. But you can't tell me these people wouldn't jump at a chance to hook up with their true love.

May as well be honest about it.

Guest Perspective: Utah Driver Training Needs Improvement

Dear Wounded Mosquito guy,

I am a long-time veteran of the Utah highway system, and thought I had a pretty good grasp of the rules of the road. Then the other day on I-15, I just casually say to my wife, "Hun, you ever figure out what this big mirror-thing stuck on my windshield is for? It seems so redundant."

"That's your rear-view mirror, dear," she said.

"But what's it for?" I asked. "I've already got a little mirror on my visor here, which serves me plenty when I need to pop a zit out on the open road."

"The rear-view mirror lets you see who's driving behind you, dear," she said.

To my shock, she was right! I moved the mirror around a little bit, and suddenly I could see a big line of cars backed up behind me on the freeway. The guy right behind me seemed really mad, too!

"Wow," I said, "the traffic behind us is outrageous today!"

"That's because you're in the fast lane, dear," my wife said. "you're supposed to yield the fast lane to passing traffic."

"What!" I exclaimed. "When did they announce that?"

"Haven't you ever wondered why people are always honking and cutting you off and giving you the finger?"

"I thought it was road rage."

"Don't you read those signs that say 'Slower Traffic Stay Right'?" she asked.

"Sure, but that's so people don't drive on the left-hand side of the road. I mean, that would be straight into oncoming traffic! I'm not that stupid!"

Just then, a white Honda Accord swung by me on the right side and cut into my lane, honking his horn.

"What a jerk!" I said.

Then I noticed that my exit was about 100 yards away. But as I moved into the center lane, another guy honked at me.

"What's his deal?" I asked incredulously. This was starting to get on my nerves.

"You didn't use your turn signal, dear," said my wife.

"I'm not turning, Marge, I'm changing lanes!" Finally, score one for Big Daddy!

Finally we made it off the freeway and over to the Golden Corrall for dinner. I tried to enjoy the meal, but I had so much on my mind it was hard to concentrate on my chicken fried steak. Slowly I realized that for years I had been the unwitting victim of a woefully insufficient driver training system in Utah. A pawn! A pansy! To think! All those years, I was supposed to YIELD the left-hand lane! YIELD!

In my defense, I can't always see too well behind me. Most of the time the dualie wheels block my view. And that doesn't even account for those times I've got my boat behind me. Look, I'm doing my best here. I've already sent another letter off to the Department of Motor Vehicles, hopefully we'll get this resolved before anyone else gets out on the road unprepared. Until then, folks should just put on some music or call a friend; they shouldn't be in such a hurry. Maybe we'll get lucky and the state will raise the speed limit up to 65 or something.

best,

A concerned driver.

Get me out of this office, Earl...

Before I address today's main topic, let me first salute the good people of Utah's oil and gas community: after watching gas prices drop forty and fifty cents a gallon across the country over the last three weeks, I drove by Maverick this morning and was greeted by a generous two-cent markdown on regular unleaded.

Way to go, guys!

----------------

OK, last night my dad and I hit Bajio's for an evening meal, then kicked back in the family living room for a little Thursday night TV. We watched episodes of "My Name is Earl" and "The Office", a pair of much-hailed shows that have bolstered the NBC line-up of late.


My dad had already introduced me to "My Name is Earl" a couple of weeks ago, and I had been excited to see another episode, when my usual schedule of teaching, socializing, lifting, and zoning out would allow. Last night, it allowed.

Now, I've never been a huge fan of the Foxworthy/Engvall/Larry the Cable Guy redneck thing. Yes, it's funny, but it's kind of a one-note act, in my opinion. That being said, "Earl" is hilarious. Kind of a blue-collar version of "Arrested Development", and the blue-collar aspect of the show might save it from AD-style cancellation. In what I've seen so far, the characters are likable, interesting, and fun to watch. The show's got endless possibilities, given the fantastic "list" device. And a classic rock soundtrack doesn't hurt, either.

I've been a fan of Jason Lee ever since I saw him in "Almost Famous", and it's fun to see him do so well here. Earl is too screwed up to be considered an "everyman", but like the twisted tales in "Seinfeld", Earl's philosophy and life have a way of making you relate to him. His brother is a great foil, an uber-idiot compliment to Earl in the same way Niles was an uber-neurotic compliment to Frasier. Plus, you can't go wrong with an electric-fro coifed stoner named "Crab Man".


Unfortunately, I can't say the same for "The Office". People have been even more vocal about this one, but I just can't get on the bandwagon. I can see why people think it's funny, but that's exactly the problem: I've seen it before. I've seen it in half a dozen Christopher Guest films, on every episode of the Daily Show, and ten thousand commercials/skits/parodys over the last four years. The idea is the same over and over again: mockumentary footage of awkward everyday losers who think their lives are more interesting or important than they really are.

Like I said, it's not that it isn't funny; it's just that it's not that original. And since I've seen the same angle played out over and over again, it ceases to become funny. Which is too bad, because it's obvious that the cast is very talented. (Another hit against the originality bit? The show is a remake of a British comedy.)

But originality isn't the only problem. Last night's episode was indeed the first one I'd sat all the way through, and the ending further cemented it's place on my "thumbs down" list. After playing the mockumentary bit for a half hour, suddenly they come with this wrenching confession of love from one coworker to another engaged coworker. And it wasn't done for laughs. In fact, it was more sincere than anything I've ever seen on a soap opera. It would have been quality stuff anywhere else, but this felt totally out of place. "The Simpsons" can get away with cute family-friendly morals at the end, and "Seinfeld" knew better than to even try to make sentimental commentary. So what on earth is it doing here?

It took me a couple of years before I could finally come out and tell people that I hated the Dave Matthews Band. Doing so was a refreshing step in life. I don't hate "The Office" by any means, but I'm not going to wait around for three years to tell people that I don't think it's all that great.

Sorry guys, I know where you're coming from, but for now, I'm off the wagon.

Introducing your 2006 Utetailgaters.com Salsa Champion!

SALT LAKE CITY- History was made Saturday afternoon in the University of Utah Golf Course parking lot, where Josh was officially crowned champion of the First Annual Utetailgaters.com Salsa Contest.

"This has been a long time coming," declared the winner. "At last I am recognized for my superior intellect and sublime culinary skills." Josh punctuated the comment by standing on the hood of his car and pounding his chest repeatedly.

Josh's entry rose above six other stiff competitors by a slim voting margin to take the 2006 title. "It was neck and neck through the final round," said contest founder and fellow contestant Bryan Tippetts, "then we found a couple of people that hadn't voted yet, and for some reason they both picked Josh."

The winning entry was a largely traditional salsa, built on fresh ingredients like tomatoes, onions, and cilantro.

"It's all about the cilantro," declared this year's winner. "you don't got cilantro, you don't got a pot to pee in. Word."

According to Josh, he only started making fresh homemade salsa this summer.

"I'd mostly been living off of handouts from friends and leftovers from my visits to Red Iguana," he says. "Sometimes I'll go down to the Farmer's Market and buy stuff from the Salsa Kings, but five bucks for an 8oz. container can get a little steep for an English teacher. So I just drove up to Brigham City and bought $25 worth of fresh vegetables so I could make my own darn salsa. It's not like it's hard or anything."

Not everyone was thrilled with the outcome of the contest.

"It seems a little shady to me," says fellow Ute Tailgater Landon Clark. "I mean, Tip pretty much gets off his death bed to be there, and Josh takes the title? I don't think he even comes to the games. What a jerk."

EXCLUSIVE! THE WINNING RECIPE!

Ingredients:

5 Fresh Tomatoes
1/2 White or Yellow Onion
1/2 Green Pepper
1/2 Red Pepper
3-4 Whole Jalapeno Peppers
3 Garlic Cloves
Cilantro
Salt
6 of those funny-looking Yellow Tomatoes that look like mini squashes.

Directions:

1. Chop it all up and mix it together. Real rocket science here.
2. Taste it. If there's too much garlic, use it to fight vampires.
3. Win local salsa competitions.

Funky Bunch ’76 scores with “Invincible”

"Invincible", 2006
2 1/2 Stars out of 4

Picture this: Somewhere around 1995, Vanilla Ice leaves behind his fledgling rap career, and through a series of films like “Perfect Storm”, “Planet of the Apes”, and “Three Kings”, becomes a legitimate B-list Hollywood actor. Oh yeah, Vanilla also has a pyromaniac brother in Menudo who gets a bit role as the guy that shoots Bruce Willis in “Sixth Sense”.

OK, now sub Mark Wahlberg for Vanilla Ice (and his brother Donny from New Kids on the Block), and you’ve got the Marky Mark story.

Well, Marky Mark just put out another movie, with a 1976 version of the Funky Bunch in tow. In “Invincible”, he plays real-life pro football walk-on Vince Papale, who played three seasons with the Philadelphia Eagles back in the 70’s. The film tells the story of how Papale steps away from his bartending gig, tries out for the team (thanks to an unprecedented open tryout put on by then-brand-new Eagles coach Dick Vermiel), and starts the 1976 season.

There’s not a lot of suspense in this one, since you know going in that he makes the team. The only surprises are saved for what happens when he actually makes it to the field. Kind of like a pro football version of “Rudy”, only without the Hobbit.

I’d slap this one down somewhere between “Remember the Titans” and “Friday Night Lights” on the “True Stories that Were Turned Into Football Movies” scale. “Remember the Titans”, or “Denzel Washington Makes the White Kids Get Along With the Black Kids”, was an enjoyable flick with a lot of glossy Disney overtones; “Friday Night Lights”, or “Billy Bob Tries to Shield His Disillusioned High School Football Team from Parasite Journalists, Tim McGraw and a Bunch of Locals with Nothing Better to do than Micromanage the Local High School Football Team”, was a grittier film that showed a lot more depth to its characters, as well as a lot more real-life struggle. “Invincible” wants to be gritty—and the Philadelphia it shows is certainly that—but the Disney folks put on a little too much gloss to take this film too seriously.

In fact, “Invincible’s” greatest strength is its look; its greatest weakness is its depth. The 1976 version of the Funky Bunch—Papale’s buddies at the local bar—are a typical group of underdog inner-city blue-collar no-names with great 70’s moustaches. There’s the “unemployed guy”, the “my union is striking and I’m worried about my job” guy, and the “I lost my brother in ‘Nam” guy. Then there’s the “bartender with a big heart” guy—played by Joe Jr. from “While You Were Sleeping” (the “leaning” guy—remember?)—and his niece, the “gorgeous blond that hangs out in a South Philly bar with the Funky Bunch even though everywhere else she’d be doing cover shoots”. They’re fun characters, and the vintage 70’s soundtrack makes them all a likeable bunch, but we don’t really get to spend enough time with them to really generate any bonds.

No, mostly the movie focuses on Vince, who’s trying to fight off all his demons and take a shot at a dream he’s not even sure he wants. He’s a fantastic athlete for his age, but even though he lacks the ‘stache that seems to be holding his other buddies back on the job market, he just lost his gig as a substitute teacher (Note: the movie doesn’t clarify what exactly Vince teaches, which begs the question: which of your high school classes would you have been most surprised to have Marky Mark sub? Chemistry? Calculus? Driver’s Ed?) Not only that, but his wife just left him and called him a loser. His biggest motivation seems to be a desire to prove her wrong.

When you whittle it down, “Invincible” is just your basic feel-good underdog movie, and there’s nothing wrong with that. The characters are likeable, the sets look authentic, and the football hits sound brutal. (In fact, most of the football footage takes place in the local vacant lot, where Vince and the boys beat on each other without pads and throw each other onto the hoods of nearby cars). Surprisingly, the story is pretty true to life, too; at the (rather sudden) end of the film, flashback highlights show actual footage from the real Vince Papale’s career.

Speaking of which, I hear Al Davis is taking applications…

“Invincible” is rated PG-13 for cussing, Marky Mark making out with the blond, a bunch of violent football hits, and pervasive gratuitous 70’s moustaches.

One Last "Crikey" for Steve

Well, the Crocodile Hunter's dead.

I'm really not sure how to feel about it. Obviously it's a tragedy, and he really did seem like a good guy, but at the same time, the man made a living by hanging out with dangerous animals. I mean, EVERYONE saw this coming, right?

This is the same problem I have with those "inspiring" segments about the motocross racers that snap their necks in some crash, or the bull rider that gets stomped on, then make a triumphant return to the sport six months later. Are these really stories of heroism? The TV producers certainly want us to think so. The motocross racers and extreme sports guys certainly want us to think so. "Grizzly Man" clearly wanted us to think so.

Me? I'm not so sure.

The Crocodile Hunter was a great entertainer, and he did a lot for education by presenting the world of zoology in a way that kids loved to see. For that, I'll remember him fondly. (I'm not so sure I'll remember his movie so fondly...I'll still take "The Gods Must Be Crazy" and "Crocodile Dundee" for my exotic comic adventures). In fact, the argument could be made that Irwin's legacy was to better inform the public about the truths and myths about the animal kingdom, thus better preparing the insulated public for encounters with the dangers of the natural world.

It's a little more reassuring to know that Irwin himself wouldn't feel sorry for his sudden departure. Apparently he made it very clear that if he were to ever get into a potentially fatal situation, his crew had strict orders to keep the cameras rolling. He seemed to aspire to the notion of going out in a blaze of glory. No word on whether his wife and kids felt the same.

I don't know, I don't just want to lambaste the guy with another "I told you so". I'm sure the world of Steve Irwin is getting plenty of those right now. The guy was hilarious, and will be remembered for a long time for some genuinely good work. My concern is the link between Irwin's persona and the culture of thrill-seeking today, which seems to push and push for a way to feel something because in the process we've numbed ourselves to the things that used to make us "feel" before.

Mary Buckheit of ESPN Page2 just published an article on Ultimate Fighting that covers much of this same ground. And like Mary, I also have to admit that despite the obvious criticism of our increasingly bloodthirsty society this kind of thing inspires, I too find the stuff mesmerizing.

But maybe that's taking things on too far of a tangent. Steve Irwin is at least six degrees of separation from the UFC. So I think the best thing I can do to honor Irwin, then, is to finish with a link to the project he inspired in my own work, my parody of both The Crocodile Hunter and of our culture's rabid fascination with "reality" television: The Baboon Shavers.

Rest in peace, Steve.

Ladies and Gentlemen...JAMES BROWN!

So two Lex's walk into a bar...

First off, I enjoyed the new Superman movie. Not as much as my sister did, but I liked it. Singer did a good job of making ties to the original series in a way that established a nice atmosphere for the film, from the opening title style to the John Williams soundtrack cues. I always thought the Star Wars prequels needed a little more of that...that's the big reason I thought the third prequel was so much better than the other two.

But I digress...

The issue I left the new Superman movie with was this: how does Kevin Spacey's Lex Luthor measure up next to Gene Hackman's? Spacey is a fantastic actor; I've enjoyed him in everything I've seen him do, and I think he's one of the best actors out there today.

But we're talking about Gene Hackman here...possibly my favorite actor of all time.

It got me thinking about that original Lex; specifically: why do I like him so much? Is he really funny? Is he well-written? Do I empathize with the baldness, or is it just the 70's kitsch that I dig?

Here's what I came up with:

Kevin Spacey's Lex Luthor is a classic villain. He's evil, malicious, sarcastic, and mean. He'll do anything to anybody in order to get what he wants, and he's usually the smartest guy in the room. Naturally, he has his blind spots, and there's that little thing about Superman being a Superhero and all, which combine to give the man in tights the victory by the end of the night.

Gene Hackman's Luthor is also evil, sarcastic, mean, and the smartest guy in the room. He's also funny, but that's not why I relate to him. See, that's just it: the reason I like Hackman's Luthor so much is that I relate to him, and here's why: The Lex Luthor of 1978 is simply a mad genius that's exasperated with the incompetence he's surrounded with. It reminds me of Paul Newman's line in "Butch and Sundance": "I've got vision and the rest of the world wears bifocals." Lex '78 is the guy in the fast lane who's mad at the dude in the Caddy in front of him who won't yield; he's the guy in the express grocery line behind the woman with 40 items...and a blank check that hasn't been filled out. The only difference between Lex '78 and you and me is that he's become exasperated with it all to the point that he's willing to wipe out half of California in order to obtain what he believes his superior intelligence merits him. Naturally the irony of all this is that his closest accomplices are the same idiots that are the source of his world-hate in the first place.

Plus Hackman's just a great actor. He understood this about the character. You could see it in every resigned look, every slouched shoulder. Come on...this guy came off like a game show host...how could you hate him? Best comic movie villain ever, including Jack's Joker.

The lost "dinner scene" from Empire Strikes Back

Last weekend I fired up my DVD copy of "Empire Strikes Back" for the first time in a year or so. As many times as I have seen it, there was one thing I noticed that caused me a bit of concern.

When Lando sells out Han to Darth Vader, they are in a vast dining room, with full accommodations. As the scene closes, Han, Leia and Chewie enter the room mournfully, and as the door slides shut, you can see Vader sitting down at the table, suggesting that he really did want his prisoners to join him for "a little refreshment", as Lando put it.

I wondered what would have taken place at such a dinner, and after firing off a quick e-mail to Uncle George, I learned that back in '79, Irving Kirshner had actually shot a dinner scene with the whole cast, but George decided to pull it for time reasons. With a little persuading, I managed to get a copy of the script. Apparently the original footage was destroyed in the same fit of rage that followed The Star Wars Christmas Special.

Naturally, I've decided to post it here...

Scene 83

Int. Cloud City Dining Room--Day

Darth Vader sits at the head of an expansive dining room table, lavishly decorated and adorned with all manner of exquisite foods. Han Solo's laser blaster rests at the side of Vader's plate. At Vader's left, Boba Fett sits awkwardly, his rocket pack jammed against the back of his chair. At Vader's right, Lando sits humbly. Reluctantly, Han Solo sits several seats down from Lando, and Leia and Chewie take up places next to him. Two Stormtroopers stand guard at the door.

Han and the others stare silently at their plates and Boba Fett adjusts constantly, trying to find a comfortable position in his chair. Vader stares expectantly at his guests, and finally speaks.

Vader: You should try the pulled pork--it's fantastic.

No one moves. Vader looks at Lando.

Vader: Isn't it, Calrissian?

Lando nods quickly and begins piling some on his plate.

Han: (muttering) Coward.

Lando looks up at his old friend.

Lando: What?

Han: You heard me.

Vader: The corn is fresh. Don't Wookiee's like corn?

Chewbacca wails dramatically. Vader turns to Boba Fett, who is still squirming.

Vader: What did he say? Did you understand that?

Boba Fett: I wasn't listening.

Vader turns to Leia.

Vader: I don't think I've seen that hairstyle on you before. Have you had it done?

Leia flashes a defiant glance at Vader and turns back to her plate.

Boba Fett finally stands up and fires a series of shots at his chair. As smoke rises from his target, he bends over and rips the back off the smoldering piece of furniture, tossing it aside. He then turns and sits down squarely on his new backless chair, and emits a satisfied sound before reaching across the table to load up his plate.

Boba Fett: It’s a good feed.

Vader reaches across the table and pours a glass from an exotic-shaped wine bottle. Grasping the glass in his gloved hand, he tips it back and pours the wine into the mouth vent of his helmet, dribbling most of it over his armor and causing several sparks to shoot from his mask and chest.

With smoke seeping from under his helmet, Vader turns to Lando.

Vader: Calrissian, this is some great stuff. Where did you get it?

Lando is flattered but cautious.

Lando: It’s an Alderran ’77. One of our miners was able to secure seventeen cases of the last shipment before the planet was…destroyed.

Lando chokes on the last word and Vader stares at him, contemplating the irony.

Vader: Have all seventeen cases transferred to my ship. I’m altering our deal.

Lando: But—

Vader: You have a problem with my new terms? Maybe you’d like to file a complaint with my assistant?

Vader jerks a thumb at Boba Fett, who has a long striped straw sticking out of his helmet and into a glass of blue liquid. He slurps noisily.

Lando looks down at his plate and stabs a fork in his pulled pork in frustration.

Vader: That was a cute little stunt you pulled on Captain Needa, Solo. Hiding right on top of his ship like that.

Han looks up smugly.

Han: Oh yeah? Did he like that?

Vader: He’s dead.

Chewbacca wails again.

Vader turns to Fett, who is busy mashing his food into a thick creamy goo on his plate.

Vader: There! Did you hear that? Is that supposed to mean anything?

Fett begins slurping his liquefied meal through is straw and shrugs his shoulders at Vader. Vader turns to Han.

Vader: What is he saying, Solo? Do you really understand him?

Han smirks at Leia. Vader looks at Chewbacca.

Vader: Do you need to go outside? Have you been fed? Is it poo-poo time for Chewie?

Chewbacca wails and throws a whole chicken at Vader, who freezes it midair with a simple uplifted hand, and deflects it to the wall harmlessly.

Vader: Get Sasquatch out of here!

The Stormtroopers move to put handcuffs on Chewie, who protests loudly.

Vader: And take a scooper with you!

Chewie yells as the Stormtroopers escort him out of the dining room. Han scowls at Vader.

Han: You want to know what he’s saying?

Vader: Don’t push me, Solo! You know how much it’s going to cost me to re-finish the hull on the Executor after chasing that rust bag of yours through that asteroid field? You think that kind of thing is under warranty?

Leia stands up suddenly.

Leia: You can keep your precious meal, Vader. I hope you choke on it with your little stooge friends here.

Leia proceeds to hock a surprising loogie into Lando’s perm.

Lando: Bah!

Boba Fett: Sweet as!

Han laughs as Lando stands up from the table and gropes his hair, mussing it up and causing much more damage than good. He glares incredulously at Leia, then turns to Han.

Lando: You’ve got a lot of nerve for a guy with yellow stripes on his pants!

Han: She’s got a lot of spunk for a Princess, huh?

Lando: You win her in a bet, too?

Han jumps from his chair and moves towards Lando, but is restrained by Boba Fett’s wrist-mounted harpoon-cable. As Han writhes, Boba is pulled into the table, where he falls on top of his meal.

Boba Fett: Crikey dick!

Vader rises to his feet.

Vader: That’s it! Calrissian, take the Princess to my chamber, and get her in something more casual.

Han continues to lurch around. Lando grasps Leia and moves her towards the door.

Vader: Bounty Hunter! Get Solo under control and take him down to prep!

The door opens, revealing more Stormtroopers.

Vader: And Calrissian—

Lando and Leia stop and turn.

Vader: Get me some containers for leftovers!