Chapel of Love

Going to the chapel

And we’re gonna get married

Going to the chapel

And we’re gonna get married

Gee I really love you

And we’re gonna get married

Going to the chapel of love

Spring is here

The sky is blue

Sky is blue) Birds all sing

Oh the birds all sing

Like they do

Today’s the day

We’ll say “I do”

And we’ll never be lonely anymore

Because we’re

Going to the chapel

And we’re gonna get married

Going to the chapel

And we’re gonna get married

Gee I really love you

And we’re gonna get married

Going to the chapel of love

Bells will ring

Bells will ring

The sun will shine

I’ll be hers

And she’ll be mine

We’ll love until

The end of time

And we’ll never be lonely anymore

Because we’re

Going to the chapel

And we’re gonna get married

Going goin’ to the chapel

And we’re gonna get married

— The Dixie Cups

Today’s novel: Double Whammy

Carl Hiaasen published Double Whammy back in 1987. Still extremely readable, it’s one of those broken down private eye tales where, of course, the private eye solves the mystery but not after extreme jeopardy, the bad guys pay in strange and painful ways, and the protagonist goes home still sad and broken down. I’ve got another Hiaasen paperback towards the top of the stack and I’ll give more of a write up after that’s read.

Enjoyable

Today’s movie: Erik the Viking

The Monty Pythons had much cinematic success sending up Jesus, King Arthur, so after they split up I’m not surprised that some of the members would continue the trend. Terry Jones wrote and directed 1989’s Erik the Viking, which features Tim Robbins as a Viking who would challenge the (Norse) gods on their own turf by finding his way to Valhalla.

The big rehearsal dinner starts soon so not too much detail here but… This film doesn’t really succeed, there’s too much drifting away towards the straightahead and away from comedy, or else bits that just don’t work well enough. John Cleese is Robbins’ main opponent but he’s barely present in the end, the woman Robbins supposedly loves enough to challenge Valhalla is barely introduced to him before he (accidentally) kills her, and in the end there are no meaningful obstacles preventing Robbins and crew from fulfilling their mission. Like most of the Python films, this is generally a series of connected sketches and not enough of them are hilarious enough to make for a satisfying whole. Though I did quite like Robbins’ performance and Imogen Stubbs as Princess Aud. Gary Cady, as Keitel Blacksmith, is someone I would have expected to see a lot more of than he’s turned out in the years since.

Mildly recommended, mainly for Pythonistas.

The most lucrative league game in history

English Premier League, that is. A single match, last of the season, on Sunday will determine whether my beloved Liverpool FC or the brummy bog bandits of Chelsea will finish fourth and thereby clinch the final English spot in next season’s Champions League. LFC must win outright to end up alright while Chelsea takes it with only a draw. And this is hugely meaningful because the financial difference between the CL place and the consolation prize of UEFA Cup is £20m-plus! That’s more than $32 million American. History may be against us, not having when at Stamford Bridge in 13 years, but I predict the Reds will make me a wedding present and win.

Thursday morning rambling

1) IBM details Blue Gene supercomputer – 130,000 CPUs linked in a single machine to operate at one quadrillion operations per second. Holy shit!

2) I updated the George Carlin page since Carlin himself has disavowed authorship of the joke list. Oh well.

3) ROE v. Paid: For Tech CEOs, Money Is No Object – Not surprisingly, an analysis by The Street.com shows there is no correlation between return on equity (ROE) and CEO pay. Just shocking that CEOs keep getting more even when they aren’t earning it.

4) Trouble in Bush’s America, by Bob Herbert on the NYT OpeEd page, just magnifies that CEOs and their ultra-wealthy cronies are satisfied with this so-called jobless recovery even if it leaves many of us looking the toilet straight in the eye.

Ode to The Sweet One

That kiss, that smile, that explosion that

Brilliance cutting through a grey dreary

Afternoon that I thought would never end until

You came unexpectedly to the door and rang.

No television, no novel, no violence-stained

Videogame.

Those lips, those eyelashes, the cheekbones that

Sit at the top of your body and never fail to raise my

Temperature, to quicken the pace of the blood flow

In my veins.

Do you understand this passion? Have I told you

Often enough how much I love you and what that

Means to me?

[Speaking of getting married…]

A Mighty Wind’s a’Comin’!

Four days. 97 measly hours. 5833 minutes. Hmm, that last sounds more comfortable, I think. Anyway, that’s the amount of time until the big day. Until the wedding ceremony for me and Vivian. Today’s excitement about wrapped up the preparations. I drove over to her office at lunchtime and we made our way to the Santa Clara County Clerk/Recorder’s Office to get our marriage license. The woman behind the counter, besides filling out forms and such, actually made us raise our right hands and take an oath! ROFL! I also picked up my snazzy new suit and dropped the source CDs off at a buddy’s place (I’ll keep his name away from the RIAA snoops). Excitement builds!

Blogger’s lunch with Scoble

Today was my last chance to get Scobelized in person before the man moves himself and his wife up to the rainy range of Redmond, so we met up for lunch. Robert is really intelligent and a good conversationalist, not just a wanking blogger, so this is always fun and I’m sad he’s leaving the Valley. Although the move is a great opportunity for him and a great hire for Microsoft. The talk ranged from bad CEOs who hang on too long and Warren Buffett’s recent CEO pay rant to the relative housing markets here and there to how tough it is to find a job these days. Good luck Rob and don’t forget us Valley bloggers!

Sidenote: The Buffett link was via MetaFilter, which is having quite the little discussion over the reality of 2nd Richest Man’s remarks.

Those bastards!

Had a big shock on the Atkins front the other day when I went to the store for our monthly restocking of muffin mix and bars. The idiots in charge at Atkins Nutritionals (the company that makes the food products) changed the formulation of the muffin mix and now it has more than twice as many carbs as before. Considering TS1 and I eat them every morning as a key part of our breakfast, this is really maddening.

I subscribe to the email newsletter, I get the bi-monthly paper catalog, I visit the website on occasion, and in none of those places was any change announced in advance. If we’d have known, we could have gone in ahead of the change and bought a big supply since once we reach phase three the extra carbs will not be a problem. But no! the management morons decided this was a big secret which customers couldn’t be let in on.

You don’t suppose the fact that the new packaging also raises the price substantially had anything to do with their decision, do you? Right, the old packages had enough mix to make, by their calculations, 18 muffins and GNC charged $5.99 per box while the new ones make only a dozen and GNC charges $5.49 per box.

I called up their customer service line to get an explanation and maybe see if they had any in the warehouse I could buy. No, the mental midgets sold out their stock of the old formulation before shipping the new stuff, so even that possibility is gone. What were these people thinking? Damn, really does suck!

Last night’s movie: A Mighty Wind

Talk about irony! We go to see a film about folk singers and then after, in search of some evening java, end up at a coffeeshop where a folksinger is playing. Funny or what?

Which fits in perfectly with A Mighty Wind, the latest film from Christopher Guest, Eugene Levy, and gang. Guest was also responsible for (co-wrote and directed) recent intelligent humor outings Best in Show and Waiting for Guffman; he first came to attention with a year on Saturday Night Live back in the ’80s but really as bassist Nigel Tufnel in This is Spinal Tap (compare that Tufnel pic to this still from Wind).

This movie tells the story of a memorial tribute concert for Irving Steinbloom, recently deceased and the number one impresario of the folk music scene of the late 1950s and ’60s, and the three groups that come together for it. In two weeks with Public Broadcasting televising it live, no less. The Spinal Tap trio (Guest, Harry Shearer, and Michael McKean) make up The Folksmen, who for unstated reasons haven’t seen each other in 30 years. Catherine O’Hara and Levy are Mitch and Mickey, who also haven’t seen each other in 30 years either but because Mitch went insane. The last group is The New Main Street Singers, a nine piece ensemble though none of the nine are actually original members or even close to old enough to have been one.

The script, by Guest and Levy, had plenty of jokes in it, which is hardly surprising but Wind also has a lot more subtlesituational humor. Some instances: Shearer’s bald head and under the chin beard; the former porn actress turned New Main Street singer (the terrific Jane Lynch, who played the lesbian lover in Best in Show) and her utterly fantastic cosmological explanation; Ed Begley Jr.’s public broadcasting honcho, a native of Sweden who peppers his speech with Yiddish; Fred Willard’s character, who is completely oblivious to reality yet able to operate successfully for decades in the entertainment business when in any other industry he’d be lucky to have a job packing up return shipments.

There is quite a bit of folk music throughout the 90 minute movie, which is a problem for some people, but even with this the filmmakers have gone to the trouble of writing songs that fit the period perfectly while effectively parodying the originals. The movie title is also the name of the closing song, performed together by three groups, but also a, well, jocular reference to a big fart. Plot, as usual for this group, is mostly ignored in favor of sketches but there is progress towards the concert as well as hiccups along the way and I think that any more plot would have just gotten in the way.

Definitely recommended

42: Not the real answer

Last year today I looked back at the day of my birth. I can confirm that my parents are still not Martians, either fo them, but that they are still wonderful people and I have dificulty imagining a better pair, plus a great sister who is also non-Martian. What I didn’t have a year ago was a wedding coming up in six days. Oh yeah, TS1 is almost in the trap from which she will never escape! Although this could be the five cups of coffee talking, as I’ve had an extreme yen for the stuff today. For those of you who don’t understand this entry’s title, here.

Last night’s movie: The Quiet American

My best man and I had a celebration last night featuring dinner at the amazingly delicious House of Prime Ribs and Michael Caine’s Oscar-nominated Best Actor performance in The Quiet American. HPR is only about two blocks away from the much better known Ruth’s Crist Steak House on Van Ness in San Francisco but better known does not equate to better dinner in this case–the entrees, for instance, are about the same price but HPR includes salad, potato, and delicious creamed spinach sides with unlimited refills while RCSH is a la carte. Yummy!

The UA Galaxy is only a few blocks south of the restaurant and it wasn’t quite raining so we walked over. Let’s just say this theater, part of the huge Regal Entertainment chain, looks better on the outside, is in serious need of a refurbishing, and leave it at that. The movie is based on the classic 1955 novel by Graham Greene and tells the tale of very early American involvement in Vietnam, just before the French lost their nerve (LOL, history repeats itself over and over) after Diem Bien Phu and pulled out, leaving the anti-communist battle to the gung-ho CIA cold warriers.

Brendan Fraser co-stars with Caine as one of these Americans. Fraser seems to be shaping his career in much the same way as Caine has, or Anthony Hopkins for that matter, making interesting, smaller quality films like this (or Gods and Monsters) while taking the big paydays (the Mummy films, Dudley Do-Right). He plays his part straight, the quiet American of the title, yet a man who knows his path in life, who doesn’t care if his arrogance shows, and one has to give Fraser a well done for the job.

The story opens in Saigon in 1952, where Caine is Thomas Fowler, a reporter for The London Times with an unloved wife back home in Blighty and an entrancing native mistress, played by Do Thi Hai Yen, when Fraser’s Alden Pyle accidentally on purpose meets him at tea time. Yen also shows up and Pyle can no more resist her charms than Fowler; this triangle forms the dramatic core of the film, along with the boiling Vietnamese politics.

Yen and Caine have been together for two years, he loves her desperately but his Catholic wife won’t give him a divorce and her concerned older sister (Pham Thi Mai Hoa) is making a quiet fuss about their relationship because she fears Caine, like so many other foriegners, will simply pack his bags and leave Yen behind at his convenience. Fraser, in front of Caine, admits his instant love, but Yen turns him away. Still, Fraser has a job to do while Caine avoids a home office recall and eventually their paths cross again.

Director Phillip Noyce has made a number of critically acclaimed films, including the recent Rabbit Proof Fence, and he gives The Quiet American the sort of smooth, languid pace one expects existed in Saigon and in collaboration with cinematographer Christopher Doyle uses an interesting, unusual visual style that mixes rough handheld shots, extreme closeups of the actors reacting to each other’s dialog or lost in thought, and colors that never seem to be truly lit. The key problem is the script by Christopher Hampton, which never quite breaks through the surface with sufficient dramatic tension though one assumes that the novel had an advantage in it’s ability to present the inner thoughts of the characters which an unseen narrator (voiced by English Patient director Anthony Minghella) can’t match.

Mildly recommended

Backup indeed!

Just had an annoying little episode with billsaysthis.com. I’m playing with a beta of some PHP software that suggests using .htaccess to password protect a particular directory. Only I was a little to quick with the enter key at one point and overwrote the .htaccess file in the webserver’s root document file (the one which serves up the homepage) and KA-BOOM! no more pages served here. Of course I had no backup and couldn’t remember the stupid include file syntax either. How annoying!

Just a MeFi-wannabe

Someone should explain to the illustrious list of founders at Metapop : a collaborative weblog that they should have just joined MetaFilter. Which they obviously knew about, since there using the FreeFilter software clone and have the word Meta in the site’s name. Dan gillmor, who talks a good game, falls down on the details as usual and gives this site linklove without mentioning the original. Ego, what terrible curse on us all.

Not as digital as all that, or a bag of potato chips, apparently

You’d think finding some type of contact information for someone as public, digital, and visible as John Brockman would be simple but it’s not. Even on the website for his Edge Foundation, the only kind of useful thing is a mailto link for editor@edge.org. He has/owns/runs a high profile literary agency called Brockman, Inc. but that website is “under construction.” So old fashioned but I had to look the company up in the white pages!