In my family, I am known as a great gift giver. There is a bit of an art-form to giving a good present, but it’s one that is easily learned. All you have to do is pay a little attention to people. When you actually listen to people, instead of just waiting to talk, you gain insights into how they think, what they like, what kind of person they are. Once you have a basic understanding of a person, it is easy to figure out what they would want as a gift. There is another secret that is all too often overlooked: just get people what they ask for. I know it sounds like the easiest thing in the world, but you would be shocked and horrified to find out how many times people just ignore the open requests people make and go their own way. Let’s face it, if you think you know what somebody wants more than they do, you probably have a whole heap of psychological ailments, not the least of which is massive amounts of narcissism.
When somebody gets you a present, it is a good barometer of how well they know you. I’m fairly open about what I like. Anybody who has the most casual of relationships with me knows that I love comics and books, watch a ton of movies, own a massive CD collection, and am a die hard fan of the New Jersey Devils. Armed with this knowledge, getting me a gift is fairly easy. There is always some new album or movie I want in my collection. A gift card to a book store will make me as happy as can be. There is no way I would not be grateful if somebody gave me a hat or a t-shirt with the logo of my beloved Devils. Even just cash in a card is something I always am appreciative of getting. You probably are too.
With all of these very simple and inexpensive options, it would have to be pretty hard to get me a bad gift, right? Oh, if only that were the case! I have gone over the list, I have weighed all the options, examined every variable and I have discovered the worst gift you could possibly give anybody. A lot of thought went into this. I did my research. This is not some theory I plucked out of thin air and put on the internet all willy-nilly. No, this is the result of a long, scientifically supported process.
The worst gift of all time is scratch off lotto tickets.
When somebody gives you scratch off tickets, what are they really telling you? That they don’t know the slightest thing about you, and they also do not feel you are worth the barest minimum of effort to shop for. If they don’t know what you want, specifically, but they want to at least appear like they care at all, they have options. They can give you money. They can give you gift cards to a store, or to a restaurant. But no. They want the scratch off ticket route, which is the same as saying, “I care so little about you, that I got this for you on the way to your house, probably because i stopped into Cumberland Farms for a Red Bull, and realized I should be bringing a gift. It was either this, or a disposable lighter. Enjoy.”
Now, I don’t mean in all instances. If you are going over your parents house for Easter dinner, and all the kids get a chocolate rabbit and a scratch off ticket, that’s fine. You aren’t supposed to get an individually selected gift on occasions like that. No, I am speaking of days that are all about YOU. I am speaking of big graduations. Weddings. Birthdays. Especially birthdays.
When somebody gives you scratch off tickets on your birthday, it’s probably the most insulting gift there is. I would personally rather get nothing than scratch off tickets. Because let’s face it: getting you scratch off tickets is the same thing as getting you nothing. You aren’t going to win a jackpot. Best case scenario, you are going to win either another free ticket, or the face value of the ticket, either of which will be used to get a new ticket, which will get you nothing. But here is the difference: If you get nothing, you just get nothing. it’s over. no fuss, no muss. But when you get scratch off tickets, you aren’t just getting nothing. You are also getting the gift of inconvenience.
First, you have to spend a bunch of time with the cards. You have to read the rules of the particular game. Then, you have to find a penny. After you have the copper Lincoln in your hand, you have to scratch away on these little tickets, making a huge, flaky mess all over your kitchen table. If you are one of the lucky ones, you just win nothing, throw the tickets out, and go on with your life. If you are like me, one of the unfortunates, the insult doesn’t end there. No, you are one of the damned fools who wins the free ticket. Now you have to get in the car and drive to the gas station, get a new ticket, and start the annoying process all over again.
I know what you are thinking: “But what if you win? SOMEBODY has to win. It might as well be me!” Oh, you poor, misguided bastards.
If you win a substantial amount of money on a scratch off ticket that was a gift, you can’t just pocket that money. You are now socially obligated to give some of the winnings to the person who got you the accursed game of chance in the first place. This is the only gift that works that way. If i gave you a jacket as a present, you would not be obligated to let me wear it half the winter. But if somebody gives you a scratch off ticket, and you win a few thousand dollars, you have to give that person half of it. Because if you don’t, it throws the equilibrium of gift exchange so far out of whack, entire relationships can be destroyed.
When people give each other gifts, in most instances, the gifts are of a relatively equal value. You don’t buy somebody a DVD for their birthday, and then have that person buy you a big screen HD TV for your birthday. The world doesn’t work that way. But with the scratch off tickets, that is what happens. You get them a gift of actual value, something that they can use. When they give you scratch off tickets, they more than likely gave you nothing, or, in a freakishly small percentage of the time, they gave you a huge windfall of money. Either way, the scales are tipped way out of alignment.
So the next time you have to get a gift for somebody, stop for minute and think about what you are doing. Think about what this gift says about the relationship you have with the person. And if it’s between scratch off tickets and a disposable lighter, get the lighter. Because I would rather set myself on fire than pretend I’m happy you got me those damn scratch off tickets.
I love movies. I watch a lot of them. Sometimes, when a movie really grabs me, I will watch it over and over again, repeating the viewings and soaking up every miniscule detail of the film. I once watch High Fidelity seven times in one week. I saw Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang three times in one day. I can’t even begin to count how many times I have watched Chasing Amy, or Star Wars, or Shaun of the Dead.
However, there is one movie that I watch only once a year. Every January, without fail, I watch this movie one time and one time only. I look forward to it all year long. The annual screening has come to be a very special event for me. To me, it is much like Christmas or a birthday. Because it happens only one time in a year, it has come to be much more than the mere viewing of a film. It has become an Event.
That movie is Akira Kurosawa’s 1954 masterpiece, Seven Samurai.
There is, always has been, and always will be, a lot of heated discussion on what the greatest movie ever made is. Different people have different criteria for what qualifies a movie to be a part of the discussion. Whether it’s a great story, bravura acting performances, advances in special effects and movie making techniques, innovative editing, world class directing, or some combination of them all, all these movies possess some of these qualities.
Gone With the Wind was an epic, elaborate undertaking that could probably never be replicated in today’s Hollywood system. Star Wars didn’t just raise the bar on what visuals in a film could look like, it shot that bar into orbit. Citizen Kane paved the way for directing and editing techniques that are still being used today, with a great story and an amazing acting performance by the co-writer and director, Orson Welles.
Seven Samurai does all of these things, and even more. It was a massive undertaking by Kurosawa and the Toho Company. At the time, it was the most expensive, riskiest production in the history of Japanese cinema. Deadlines were not just pushed, but shattered, as the perfectionist Kurosawa would not stop until he had achieved his vision of what the film should be. To their credit, Toho let Kurosawa do what he wanted and the result was a smash success.
The directing, filming and editing of this movie are unmatched, more than fifty years later. There has never been a director with Kurosawa’s gift of shot composition. Seven Samurai has a large cast. Time and time again, Kurosawa has five, six, or even seven or more characters on screen at once, all of whom are facing the camera, seated in natural positions, in different depths of vision, and all are in perfect focus. It is a subtle thing that you don’t immediately notice. But upon repeated viewings of the film, things like this become more and more evident.
With such a large cast, you would expect at least one or two performances not to be on par with the others, but this is not the case here. Every role, from co-leads Takashi Shimura and Toshiro Mifune down to ragged villager and comic relief Yoshiro Tsuchiya, is perfectly cast. You won’t find anybody here who doesn’t belong as part of this great ensemble.
The action scenes are filmed with a verisimilitude rarely scene in film any more. This is not the choreographed fight scenes we see today, that are beautiful to watch but are closer to violent ballet than violence itself. The fighting in Seven Samurai is sloppy. It is disorganized. People fall in the mud and thrash about wildly. It looks much like I imagine a fierce battle on a rain soaked Japanese farm in the 1580s would look like.
On it’s surface, the story of Seven Samurai is surprisingly simple. A group of villagers are going to be raided by bandits. They hire samurai to protect them. The Samurai fight the bandits, driving them off. But look closer and you will find there is far more going on. Layer after layer of commentary unfolds as various themes are woven together to make the tapestry of this world. Seven Samurai uses class warfare, social status, changing dynamics in society as newer generations come of age, the secretive and conniving nature of people and so much more to tell this story.
In all of this, Seven Samurai is not alone. However, Seven Samurai did not only achieve greatness in film making; Seven Samurai spawned in entire genre of movie.
Most film historians consider Kurosawa’s film to be the first ever modern action movie. This was the first time in any movie a group of separate characters came together to form a team to achieve a goal. The film has been remade, officially and unofficially, over and over again. The most famous is The Magnificent Seven, which is a recasting of the story in the Old West, with the story simplified, the subtlety removed, and some Hollywood slickness applied to the grim reality of the original. Any movie where a group of misfits and outcast from different backgrounds comes together owes it’s spiritual ancestry to Seven Samurai. The Guns of Navarone, The Dirty Dozen, Star Wars (which was itself inspired by a later Kurosawa film, The Hidden Fortress), Ocean’s Eleven and virtually every heist or caper movie of the past fifty years is in some way inspired by Seven Samurai.
Directing. Editing. Production. Acting. Cinematography. Writing. Subtlety. Originality. Action. All of these things coalesce into one film that has influenced countless film makers and changed the course of the entire medium of expression that is movie making.
That is why, once a year, I sit down and watch Seven Samurai. To experience it more than that would run the risk of taking it for granted. Like Christmas or a birthday or anniversary, it should be experienced only once a year, so that you never forget to appreciate Seven Samurai for what it is: film making perfection.
So I have come up with this new theory that I call Exponential African Rowdiness Syndrome, or EARS. What this theory states is that the volume of a black person grows by unnatural degrees when he or she is in close proximity to another black person. (Let me just state right off the bat, I always say “black person.” I never say “African_American” because you aren’t a fucking “African-American” unless you wore born in Africa and moved to America. If you were born in Connecticut, you’re just an American. Lose the hyphen. America is supposed to be a melting pot. Fucking melt.)
For example, one black person is basically as loud as one white person. But two black people are as loud as four white people. Three black people are as loud as seven white people. Four black people are as loud as fifteen white people. It just grows and grows.
I don’t know why this is. It is a bizarre phenomenon with no scientific explanation. It’s like how a duck’s quack doesn’t echo and nobody knows why. But it IS the truth.
Anyone who has been in a canteen at a job with a large work force, or a high school cafeteria, has noticed this. The “black table” is about thirty seven times louder than the “white table.” (Also, you have to appreciate the irony of the segregation in lunch rooms. Blacks and whites marched hand in hand together during the 60s to end segregation so we could all live together in peace and harmony….and that is the last thing we ever did together! Blacks fought and marched and protested so they wouldn’t have to sit in the back of the bus but when you went to school where did all the black kids sit? But I digress….)
Anyway, we should really get to the bottom of this undiscovered and untapped energy source. This is a gold mine of untapped potential resources! Why, if we cracked its secrets, we could use the population of Detroit to provide energy of the entire globe!
Also, I think it’s time that we, as Americans, adopt a new method of mathematics and measurements. We have been using the bizarre version of ours for way too long. I would suggest we go Metric, but that makes too much sense on a basic level and everybody else in the world uses it, so we obviously can’t use that. So instead, I am thinking we should go with the natural partner of our new English, Ebonics, and use the new math, Blackematics.
Blackematics is very simple. All units and values are replaced with one solitary unit of measurement, “the motherfucker.” Everything is measured in relation to a motherfucker. As in “he’s crazier than a motherfucker.” “I got higher than a motherfucker.” “I ran faster than a motherfucker.” If you ever sat within earshot of “the black table” you have heard this measurement used to great effect. It seems to be working well for the Black community. I think we should just adopt it all over the country, throughout all races.
The only problem is knowing when the “motherfucker threshold” has been breached. I was going to ask one of the kindly blacks at my job, but unfortunately, there were seven of them sitting together, and the sound coming out of them was the equivalent of a neutron bomb and I couldn’t get near enough. I do not know exactly how loud a neutron bomb would be, but I’m assuming it’s louder than a motherfucker.
A while back, they opened a Krispy Kreme in my area. I had never been there before, but as a fat man who likes donuts, I decided I had to check it out and see what all the fuss was about.
I arrived at the giant donut shop in the mid-afternoon, while the “fresh donuts” sign was lit. This is apparently the best time to go, as the life shortening treats are just coming out of the little donut assembly line or whatever. As this was a new addition to a much-hyped franchise, and there is nothing else to do in Connecticut, the line to get in was huge. I don’t mean like when there are three people in front of you at the express lane in Stop N Shop and you get all impatient and pissed off for no reason, because let’s face it, you have nothing better to be doing. It’s not like after you purchase your bag or Doritos you are going to go home and cure cancer in your home lab. No, you are going to sit on your fat ass and eat those Doritos while you watch Flavor of Love, or whatever the Hell the kids are watching these days. But I digress. No, this line was LONG. Like out the store, into the parking lot and on to the street long.
So I’m standing in line, minding my own business, as I generally shun human contact of any kind. Naturally, because interaction with other members of my race is what I want least in the world, some schmuck in line next to me has to start talking to me. For some reason, my utter hatred of humanity doesn’t permeate my skin and shine out to the outside world. No, it stays contained inside of me, where it just shrivels my heart to a black, lifeless mass and gives me stomach cancer.
Does the person who starts talking to me have anything to say that I would even remotely want to hear? Of course not! Let us relive the moment, shall we?
The guy looks at me and says, “This is amazing. I can’t believe this.” I think if I just humor him briefly, he will maybe leave me alone. “Yeah, I know.” I reply. “These are just donuts, right?” The guy shakes his head, puts on his best “forgive them Lord, for they know not what they do” face and he says to me “No, that isn’t what I mean. There is this huge line to get into Krispy Kreme and yet on Sunday there is no line at all to get into church.”
I don’t know why these people always find me. Maybe it’s God’s revenge on me for all my criticism of his work. However, I happened to know exactly what to say to this poor, misguided soul:
“There is a very good reason why there isn’t a line to get into Church. You see, in theory, God is everywhere. I don’t have to go to church to see God. God is wherever I am. If I open up my fridge at home, there’s God! Right next to the mayonnaise! You know what’s NOT in my fridge? Donuts. I have to come HERE to get those. That’s why there is a line to get in here and not in church. God IS EVERYWHERE! THE DONUTS ARE ONLY RIGHT HERE!”
I think I offended the guy. But I like to think I was doing God’s work, the only way I know how.
I do not subscribe to HBO, but I saw quite a few commercials for last year’s mini-series on John Adams, starring Paul Giamatti in the title role and Laura Linney as Abigail Adams. I remember the critical acclaim and the series winning more Emmy awards than any other mini-series in history. When I noticed the Blu-Ray version of the DVD had been released, I decided to purchase it. While I had never seen any of the actual series, the trailer looked promising and i have always enjoyed Giamatti in the past. The script was based on the Pulitzer Prize winning biography by David McCullough, who’s book 1776 was a fascinating read.Plus, it shared producers with Band of Brothers, another critically acclaimed and beloved mini-series. I was relatively sure that a “sight unseen” purchase of this series was not much of a risk. When I received the DVDs in the mail, I was excited to get started. I knew I could not watch the 8+ hours of the series in one sitting, so i was prepared to spend the next week watching it a little at a time. On the first night, I thought i would pop the disc into my blu-ray player and watch the first 30 minutes or so, just to get a feel of what the series was like. Two hours and forty five minutes later, I forced myself to shut it off and go to bed.
John Adams is, at the risk of sounding like hyperbole, a remarkable artistic achievement. From the production design, the CGI, the cinematography, the costumes, the directing, the acting, to the writing and everything in between, this series succeeds on all levels. From his involvement defending the british Soldiers for their part in the the Boston Massacre in 1770 to Adam’s death in 1826, we get to witness the adult life of one of America’s greatest citizens. Each location, often in different time periods, is painstakingly recreated through live sets and CGI embellishments that are flawlessly integrated into one picture. Boston, Pennsylvania, New York, Paris and many other places Adams visited throughout his life are brought to life by the production team. While watching, one gets a sense of what life was actually like in those times.
it is impossible to discuss John Adams without discussing Paul Giamatti, in a career defining role as the title character. From a lawyer at the age of 35, to an old man of 90, Giamatti portrays one of our Founders to the utmost of his considerable ability. In the first few episodes, where Adams is in his 30s and 40s, Giamatti gives a strong performance. but as Adams gets older, Giamatti’s portrayal of the man seems to get more powerful. By the end of the series, Paul Giamatti’s performance is nothing short of a revelation. His performance was so fully formed that at times i forgot i was watching an actor and not the actual man he was evoking. With a performance this excellent, it would be easy to forget the other members of the cast, if not for the strength of the portrayals across the board. In real life, Abigail Adams was the equal to her husband in every way. likewise, Laura Linney’s performance as Abigail is just as powerful as Paul Giamatti’s. Yes, John Adams is the story of a countries birth, it’s struggle for independence, and it’s rocky beginnings on it’s way to stability. However, it is also a love story between two people. Just as Abigail Adams was the comfortable rock for Adams, giving him balance in life, bringing him down when he got too high on himself and propping him up when he got too down, Laura Linney is similarly the heart and soul of this series. While John Adams was a stubborn, cranky, and often rude man, incapable of not speaking his mind as bluntly as possible, it was his wife Abigail who brought out the love in his heart. John Adams famously began each of his many letters to his wife with the salutation “My Dearest Friend,” and that friendship and love these two shared is at the core of this story.
The rest of the cast does an admirable job in their roles, managing to not be overshadowed by these two amazing performances. David Morse channels the quiet humility and inner strength of George Washington, managing to convey both the insecurity and commanding presence that permeated from America’s first president. Tom Wilkinson, from the moment he steps on the screen, projects everything we know of Benjamin Franklin. But the performance that threatens to steal the show at all times is that of Stephen Dillane as Thomas Jefferson. In his early appearances, Jefferson speaks very little. However, at all times he exudes a quiet charisma, and it is at times impossible to take your eyes off of him. As Jefferson’s role in the birth of America grew, so did his role in this series, until he is almost a co-star. Dillane does far more than hold his own with Giamatti and linney: just as jefferson threatened to over-shadow his political friend and rival, Dillane appears at the brink of stealing the mini-series. It is a testament to the acting ability of Giamatti that he is able to maintain the spotlight, as his short, fat, cantankerous Adams is never eclipsed by the much more flamboyant and charismatic Jefferson.
As for the blu-ray discs themselves, the transfer is excellent. The picture is crystal clear, with some scenes seeming to leap from the screen. Certain scenes, such as the launching of the first hot air balloon in Paris, are a perfect argument for the transition to high definition. The landscapes of Colonial America are things of beauty, and the ornate gardens of Paris are breath taking. A making of featurette on the mini-series and a short documentary on David McCullough are welcome additions to the already amazing content of the series itself. It was well worth purchasing the blu-ray edition of the series over the standard.
John Adams succeeds on every level. Each of it’s record-breaking awards was well deserved. Any fan of a well crafted piece of entertainment would do well to add this remarkable achievement to their collection.
I try not to let these things bother me, but as there are more and more comic related properties being made into movies, TV shows, video games, etc these days, comic fans are being portrayed in the media more and more often. And we are ALWAYS shown in a bad light. I am just so sick of it.
Every time comic book fans are shown, they are always made out to be losers. People think that every comic book reader is a socially awkward misfit. Some scrawny, asthmatic loser who can’t differentiate reality from fantasy. They are always shown as people who can’t get real jobs, can’t have real relationships, can’t have friendships with people other than other geeky losers, and live with their parents their entire lives. I am just damn tired of it.
I am 30 years old. I have been supporting myself for 12 years. I have a real job. I own my own home. I drive a brand new car. I am married to a wonderful and (dare i say it?) attractive woman. I have friendships with people who don’t know the first thing about comics. I have a wide variety of interests. I enjoy reading things other than comics, a lot of which have nothing at all to do with fantasy or sci-fi. I listen to jazz and opera. I can jog 5 miles without dying. I played basketball in school. By most definitions, I am a normal, fairly successful member of the middle class.
And I am passionate about comic books.
I am bringing this up here because I have a feeling that most of the people on this board are in the same situation: relatively normal people with a wide range of interests who happen to love comics as well.
I think that is the norm not only on this board, but in the comic reading world in general. I’ve been to a lot of comic book stores and the customers i see there, 99% of the time, look like normal, healthy people who are well adjusted, productive members of society who just like to read comics. This is the comic fan i have encountered in my life. but it is NEVER the one I see on TV.
Why are the comic fans the only group of people who can be portrayed as being nothing but losers and the worst examples of their respective social class? We don’t show all people from a particular race as being exactly like what the worst of their group has to offer.
Whenever they show a comic fan on TV, it is always some scrawny white guy with bad skin and glasses who is terrified to talk to a woman and who gets bullied by everyone else. And whenever some celebrity admits to a liking comics, it’s always to show that they are unbelievably cool and hip and beautiful, but they have this small geeky side so they are more normal. And it’s always revealed like it’s some big secret they were hiding, but they want to reveal it on the talk show, because if they admit to something embarrassing, it makes them more relatable and likable.
The media and the entertainment industry doesn’t dare to portray anyone else as a stereotype in this day and age. Can you imagine if every black man on TV was shown to be a deadbeat father and a criminal? Or if every Jewish man in movies was a money hungry miser? If every southerner was an inbred illiterate? If every Italian was a rude, foul mouthed idiot? Obviously, these are ugly stereotypes that are untrue to anyone who has ever left their house and met another person.
Yet, fans of comics are always shown to be the worst of what we have to offer.
It just makes me sick. I look at the comic book medium and see how far it has come. Right now, there are stories being told in comic form that are among some of the best we as a people have to offer. Some of our superhero books have better action then the biggest budget Hollywood blockbusters. There are indy books that have more real and touching relationships than many contemporary novels and films. Comics, right now, are at an all time high in terms of the sheer amount of quality books being put out by amazingly talented creators.
It just makes me sad that so much great work by so many terrific talents is being put out, but so many people won’t even give it a try because “comics are for freaks and losers and outcasts.”
*SIGH*
Sorry to rant about this. I don’t even know what set it off. just having a bad day.
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I recently bought a bag of M&Ms. This should not come as a shock, as I didn’t get to be this fat without eating things i probably shouldn’t. No, what surprised me about tis particular chocolate indulgence was the fact that I actually got angry at the candy in question.
I was eating the M&Ms a few at a time, in an attempt to make the bag last. Some people like to cram the entire thing in their mouth as quickly as possible and get a huge influx of chocolate at once. I would rather savor the treat and stretch out the consumption of said candy. however, in doing so, i was able to get a pretty good look at the variety in the bag. I noticed that out of the entire contents of the bag, I only had about four brown M&Ms.
At first, i didn’t think much of this. But after a few more helpings of candy coated goodness, I started to remember eating M&Ms as a child, and the difference in the proportions struck me as odd. Back in a far off time known as “The Eighties,” when you opened a bag of M&Ms, half the candies were brown or tan. The yellows and oranges were infrequently mixed in, a special burst of color in an otherwise dark palette. And the green ones? Why the green ones were more rare than an honest politician, or a critique on American Idol that actually means something. If you got four green M7Ms in your bag, you were considered lucky, and should probably invest in Lotto tickets right then and there.
In fact, the colored M7Ms were so scarce that an entire advertising campaign was created to show just how special they were in comparison to their brown and tan counterparts. I don’t remember the exact details (after all, this was 20+years ago), but the commercial, which I saw over and over again while watching such intellectual television offerings as The Thundercats, showed a Little League baseball game. The star player on the team had just scored and was being asked the secret of his success by a presumably less athletic member of the team. The star player was most helpful and supportive to his teammate and revealed that the secret to his thunderous batting skills was, in fact, his bag of M&Ms. If he ate a yellow colored candy before his at bat, he would get a double. An orange candy led to a triple. And the green, the rarest of sugary treats in the bag of delights, was a guaranteed a home run.
The other player, upon learning of his friends trick, asked for a home run candy, as it was his turn at bat. The star player informed his protege that there was only one green one left, and proceeded to hand over a triple instead. The child, popping the M7M into his mouth, went up to bat. You saw the star player downing a few of the M7Ms as the sound of a bat making contact with a ball was heard off screen. The wise player smiled as he ate his candies and the commercial faded to black.
This commercial has stayed with me into my adult life. Maybe it is why I have no problem with today’s Major League players using steroids and other performance enhancing drugs to improve their baseball games. I myself would often throw down a green M&M before an important at bat in an elementary school game during gym class. Sometimes I got a good hit, but more often than not i struck out, which taught me an important lesson about the lies told to the general public by advertising firms. Any time I see a commercial on television for a product that promises certain results, I think back to throwing my bat on the ground in frustration after striking out at softball, even though i had just eaten a yellow M&M and should have been standing proudly on second base, waiting for my green M&M chewing friend to hit the homer that would send us both home.
But it wasn’t just a cynical view of marketing and advertising that i gained from eating M&Ms. It was also a deeply held belief that when something is rare, it is to be savored and appreciated. Why was the green M&M the most powerful of all the candies in the bag? because they were the scarcest of all the candies. it was their rarity that made them special. When one happened upon a green M&M, it was a special moment in the consumption of the bag. You didn’t shake a bag of M&Ms, have a green one fall into your palm and just pop it into your mouth. No. You thought about it first. You planned it out. Maybe you even saved it for later, eating it only after all the other colors had been consumed. You certainly didn’t eat it with any other M&Ms, either. A green M&M was royalty, not to be mixed in with the riff raff that were the browns and tans, or even the somewhat respectable middle class of oranges and yellows. No, the green was the highest class of all the candies. It was an M&M that was a cut above the rest. It was to be cherished and appreciated. Eating it was the highlight of the entire bag.
But open a bag of M&Ms today and what do you see? Why, half the bag is green! The once special moment of finding a green M&M happens so often now, it has been rendered utterly meaningless. The bag is filled with colors! In fact, the tan M&M has been completely removed, to make way for more colors! When you first look into a freshly opened bag, a veritable rainbow of colors assaults your ocular senses! The yellows and oranges are everywhere, and they have brought their red and blue friends along for the ride. The greens are everywhere, literally bursting forth from the bag! And their, at the bottom, like some lost remnants of a bygone era, are the poor, neglected browns. These once abundant colors, who were the backbone of the M&M workforce, are now an endangered species.
And you know what? Eating a bag of M&Ms is no longer all that magical. Scouring the pile of browns for those oranges, yellows and oh-so elusive greens has been taken away from us. And with it, the very thing that made that ritual so special in the first place. there is no more anticipation. nothing to look forward to. it’s like Christmas coming every day. Every at bat is a home run.
These M&Ms, which once taught me such important lessons as a child, are still teaching us. But now the lessons are much more upsetting. People need to be reminded that when the special and the rare become commonplace, they lose the very qualities that made them so special in the first place. We have become a nation full of people who demand instant gratification. W don’t want to wait for things. We want them NOW. We no longer stop to enjoy the view. We just want to get where we are going. The only problem with that is, once we get their, it is too late to realize that the journey was far more special than the destination.
So to Mars, Incorporated, the makers of M&Ms, I say this: put back all those brown M&Ms. A home run is only exciting if it was preceded by a LOT of strike outs.
I have been reading iron man comics for a really long time. I am 30 years old now, and have been reading iron Man since i was about 5 years old. Some of my favorite stories ever were found in the pages of Invincible Iron Man. One Christmas, one of my gifts was a huge box of Iron man comics. My father went to the local comic shop and bought every Iron man comic they had in stock and gave it to me. it was probably the best gift i ever got. And there were a TON of great stories in there. From around issue 100 well into the 270, Iron man was VERY consistent title. Not all of the stories were great, but i rarely read a bad issue of the book, and believe me, i read a lot of them. It’s one of the main reasons Iron Man is one of my all time favorite characters. Month after month, year after year, that title delivered.
things took a turn for the worse in the 90s, like it did with most titles. Storylines got bad, and all anyone cared about was how much stuff they could stick on the armor. Tony Stark got replaced with some weird teenage version of himself. it was dark days for the Golden Avenger. But things started to pick up recently. Warren Ellis’ re-imagining of the character was fantastic. The stories that followed were fairly decent. A lot of people complained about Stark during the Civil War, saying he was “out of character.” I never really found that myself, but i DO admit that the book wasn’t quite as good. Things picked up with a pretty good Mandarin storyline. And then, when the movie hit, they launched a new volume of Invincible Iron man with Matt Fraction writing the new stories.
I have been reading this title the whole time, and as i read this most current issue, it kind of hit me: With no advance advertising and with zero fanfare, Invincible Iron man has kind of become a great comic. It’s not getting a lot of attention and it has really zero hype behind it, but this book is everything I want in an Iron Man title:
-Tony Stark isn’t some insanely powerful hero anymore. I think it was a good idea to scale him back and make him out-think his opponents, rather than out-power them.
-Making Stark a fugitive is a really cool idea and I love to see what he does to escape Osbourne each month.
-Pepper Potts is once again front and center, where she belongs. In the 70s and 80s, Iron man had a great supporting cast. They all vanished in the 90s, and it’s nice to see Pepper coming back into the fold.
-Some classic, old-school Iron man villains are coming back! he tangled with Namor recently. And then the Controller shows up! I freaking LOVE the Controller! Why is this guy never used?
-Fraction did something not even Brian Michael Bendis was able to do (and make no mistake about it, i love me some Bendis.) He actually made me care about Maria Hill. I think she’s a great addition to the Iron Man book. The way Fraction is writing her, she’s almost like a female version of Spymaster (another classic iron man villain who needs to come back), but with a backstory and on the side of the good guys.
I am totally loving this book. it’s a great mix of the new style of story telling mixed in with the old-school type stuff that made Iron man great back in the 70s and 80s. Every month i get this book and don’t know what to expect, but in a good way. I feel like Iron man has entered the type of run that people are going to look back on years from now and say “That was one great time to be reading that book.”
Do any other long time fans of Iron Man agree with me? Or am I the only one loving this title these days? And if you aren’t reading Iron Man, hop on board! You’re missing out.
I had heard a LOT of bad things about X-Men Origins; Wolverine. However, I like to reserve judgement on a film until I’ve actually seen it. People slammed plenty of movies that i ended up enjoying a great deal. However, my hopes were not high as I sat down to view Wolverine.
As the movie progressed, i had a few small complaints, but for the most part, i was really enjoying it. Maybe it’s because my expectations were so low, but I was honestly having a good time and was willing to overlook small things and just appreciate my over-all enjoyment of a movie.
Then the last half hour happened.
I can’t remember the last time i got the rug pulled out from underneath me in that way in a movie before. Ordinarily, I generally like or dislike a movie from the first twenty minutes or so, and by the end, my opinion may slide slightly from one grade or another, but I’ve never had such a radical shift as this before. In the third act of that movie, it just totally fell apart.
I don’t want to spoil it for people who haven’t seen it yet, but I just totally hated the last half hour or so of this movie. I feel bad for Hugh Jackman and Liev Schrieber, as i felt both men were great in their roles. I’m also not blaming the director for this one, as I thought Gavin hood did a fine job with the material he had at hand. What happened at the end of this movie REEKED of studio interference to me. And lo and behold, Richard Donner is the Executive producer! Knowing that the man behind the stupidity that was the last half hour of Superman II was involved in this movie made it all make sense.
This movie is the perfect example that good actors, good directors and good screenwriters CAN make a bad movie when the studios get involved.
Maybe I’m wrong about this. maybe the director and writers really wanted that idiotic last act. but something tells me this was a product of a lot of “studio notes.”
Fox has managed to do something that no super-villain has EVER been able to do.
They killed Wolverine.
Quick thoughts on Watchmen movie:
I loved it. I thought it was a great movie. Very true to the spirit of the original comic. I laugh at all these people who say “When they changed the ending, they totally changed the meaning of the story!” No, they didn’t change anyhting about the meaning. Yeah, the METHOD of how the ending came about was different, but the RESULTS were exactly the same.
There are all these people ranting and raving and i don’t think many of them honestly even understand the comic. They just repeat things they hears, like “It deconstructs the super-hero genre!” but i don’t think they actually know what that MEANS. They just say it to try to sound superior or keep their “fanboy cred” or whatever.
Long story short, the film makers, Zack Snyder in particular, were obviously huge fans of the source material. I’ve seen it twice now, once in IMAX, and will definitely be picking up the blu-ray release when it hits the stores.
Terrific movie. I highly recommend it to OPEN MINDED people who liked the comic.
