Because I'm struggling to use my own words...

"And let us not forget about elephantiasis, an infestation by microscopic worms that wriggle into the lymphatic system, causing an accumulation of lymph so massive it forces the victim to stumble about on legs the size of tree trunks, carrying his scrotum before him in a wheelbarrow.” - John Gambel

***

Steve Martin: When I was 10 years-old I knew I wanted to make movies, but I knew NO ONE was going to give me that. So, I started putting away one dollar every week of my life. If I missed a week I made it up later - From age 10 on. And now, you're looking at enough to get us started: $2,184

Jamie Kennedy: But, movies cost millions of dollars to make.

Steve Martin: That's after gross-net-deduction-profit-percentage-deferment-10% of the NUT! CASH: Every movie costs $2,184!


***

Bruce Dern: Me, I can barely get my family to eat together; but you - you've got your family dreaming together.

***

"Art is just the last three letters of fart" - One of the guys from The Butthole Surfers, I think.

***

"Mikey! Vulgar!" - Mrs. Roberto

Life Altering Conversation

Here's a short conversation I overheard several years ago. I'm still coming down from profundity of it:

Eric: ... komodo dragons.
Matt: Aren't they in the desert?
Eric: Nah, the jungle.
Matt: Oh. Well, if you put one in the desert, he'd be there.

All The Happy Accidents - September 2010 BRR Mixtape Brigade

http://www.megaupload.com/?d=PE0I6FR7

One of the more entertaining aspects of Mixtape creation is to witness how the sequence evolves and ends up in its final state. Normally, I have the authority and power to regulate this evolution and ultimately decide what makes the cut and what doesn't. But, not this month - this one got away from me. This one assembled itself on its own. I fought it at first, trying desperately to cling to the original sonic intent. And again and again, the music continued to take command. What you hear here sounds nothing like what I had set out to create, and, I suppose, everything is all the better for it. I was put in my place. Who would have thought creating a Mixtape could be a humbling experience.

Worthy Surrogate Videos

I tip my hat to those who were inspired enough by these awesome songs/bands to piece together their own videos. Good stuff, man. Good Stuff.

Grandpa Makes Noises - August 2010 BRR Mixtape Brigade

http://www.megaupload.com/?d=E8JX025X
A mix perfected with age - and with age, wisdom. It's a slow burner, so don't get too ahead of yourself.

Phaseplane Differential - July 2010 BRR Mixtape Brigade

http://www.megaupload.com/?d=KI6OUSM9

“What is the human brain?” Orphu asked rhetorically. “I mean, all of us morevecs have a piece of one. What is it like? How does it work? Like the binary or DNA computers we also carry around for thinking purposes?”

“No,” said Cho Li. “We know that the human brain is not like a computer neither is it a chemical memory machine the way the Lost Era human scientists believed. The human brain… the mind… is a quantum-state holistic standing wavefront.”

“Exactly!” cried Orphu. “The post-humans used this intimate understanding of the human mind to perfect their Brane Holes, time travel, and quantum teleportation.”

“I still don’t see how,” said Prime Integrator Asteague/Che

[Orphu]“If you assume an infinite or near-infinite set of alternate universes, then many of these have necessarily been imagined through the sheer force of human genius. Picture them as singularities of genius – Bell-state analyzers and editors of the pure quantum-foam of reality.”

- Quoted from the Dan Simmons novel Olympos

A Hodgepodge of Images

Our laptop hard drive is a treasure chest. Blogspot is not HTML table friendly. That, and my animated .gifs don't work. Someone do something about this. KTHX.

Weapon Of Choice

Friends,

At first glance, the assumption is that this blog post is about a pen. Yessir, we’re gonna talk about a pen. But, then again, first glances can be deceiving because this is not just a pen; it is a marvel of engineering, a benchmark of human achievement, an empowering tool of empowerment - Indeed, it is a way of life!

HARK!

The Pilot Precise V7 RT

So, what’s so frikkin special about this… pen? Let’s take a closer look. You may see things that are beyond your understanding, and that’s ok. We’re gonna start at the top and work our way down. Before we even pick it up – as hard as it may be to restrain oneself given its sleek and sexy body – it is necessary to understand the context in which this pen has been given its moniker. “Pilot” is not only the company’s name but its ultimate paradigm, way of thinking, and approach to making superior and totally awesome inscription facilitators. A writing utensil should fill its operator with loyalty, assurance and self-confidence. What makes a pen exceptional is equal parts performance and psychology. Yes. Pilot lets you be the PILOT.

“Precise” signifies that this product was meticulously designed by specialists and not intended for some amateur hob knob to doodle cocknballs on his buddy’s signal processing study guide. NO! This pen is for respectable hob knobs. “V7” is the government’s super secret chemical compound that makes this fast drying ink such a treasure. It would mean certain death… or rather, a convenient fatal accident if I were to divulge anymore information. “RT” is an acronym for the Latin phrase “Reductofidelus Tabulainforudious.” Pilot so cleverly included this in the product’s name because it stands for “Nary a Brainfart to Be Had.” Tee hee. That’s so fun.

Ok, now go ahead and pick it up. Notice how it has almost no weight? That’s because the V7 RT is constructed with the very same exotic alloys that the Predator aliens use to build those mini-croissant-looking projectile thingies; like in Predator 2 when he shot that wicked voodoo henchman in the face – oh man, that part was awesome.

You’ll also notice that the V7 RT has no pen cap. This archaic approach to avoid accidental pen markings has been done away with. Instead, you’ve got a futuristic spring loaded clicker function. This satisfying and empowering mechanism locks into place to ensure that there are no unintentional retractions. What ingenuity! The V7 RT also has a super-welded buckycarbon clip for your convenience; just in case you want to clip the pen to your shirt collar or pocket or lanyard. That’s so thoughtful of Pilot, yes? Likewise, the rubber grip at the base of the pen was developed by NASA. It uses the same gripping material that astronauts use to secure on their spaceman diapers for those long spacewalks. It’s a complex neon polymer that increases the overall comfort of operation. It gives confidence that, while you’re excitedly scribbling down lyrics of injustice and staying true to your peeps the pen won’t fly out of your hand and accidentally dart into a white guy’s eyeball. Yay, everybody wins! As a bonus feature, Pilot built in what they call “Traction Pockets” into the rubber grip. This is where they hide the heroin.

And now we come to the bread and butter of the Pilot Precise V7 RT: The tip and ink. Pilot offers differing tip sizes to accommodate your scribbling style. My preference is the FINE tip. I roll with a fine tip because it is small enough to compliment my cramped and cluttered handwriting, but broad enough that if I need to sketch a big, hearty [FU] over some jerk’s powerpoint printout I can do so with grace and style. Lastly, we must examine what makes the V7 ink such a joy. As a lefty, quick drying ink is essential – ESSENTIAL! There’s nothing more discouraging than having my pristine inspirational thoughts and social innovations get all smudged up because the ink I’m using is made from recycled engine oil or some crap. It makes me second guess myself – and we can’t have that, can we? V7 is also impervious to changes in air pressure, which makes it airplane safe. This works perfectly because now me and Rick Steves can confidently compare and make revisions to our notes during the trip home from the Greek isles. We’ll laugh, share memorable moments… then when he least suspects it, and with terrifying swiftness and force, I will stab him in the chest with my Pilot Precise V7 RT because I frikkin love/hate Rick Steves…

Yessir. The Pilot Precise V7 RT is not just a pen; it is a motivator, an enabler. It is my weapon of choice. It is my co-pilot. It is on my team. Thomas Jefferson wrote tens of thousands of letters in his lifetime. He raised his own flock of geese in order to ensure that he had an ample supply of writing quills. Do yourself a favor and raise your own flock of Pilot Precise V7 RTs. Before you know it you’ll be drafting the next social revolution and stabbing your competition in the chest.

Love,
- Doctor Jones

P.S.
Just because...

Under the Entry Roar - June 2010 BRR Mixtape Brigade

http://www.megaupload.com/?d=ILBRMRC1

This mix is pretty slick. It’s a submersion into a groovy neon underworld full of weirdo denizens that strut and scurry and do their thang. Don’t be shy - say hello. Ask one of them to do the multi-strobe trick with his fingertips. They’ve all got different visual knickknacks like that. Explore caverns textured with phosphorus filaments; ascend towering structures - naturally formed or otherwise. It’s going to be a place you’ll want to write home about, or, at least, transmit via Alphawave Comm Nodes – if that’s your gig.

Sonically, the mix moves like a thread of smoke. It stretches outwards, curls back into itself, and always intent to rise someplace higher. It’s fun to listen to. A dabble of trip hop, chemical beats, copious headspace, wickedly delicious groove.

Buy the Ticket, Take the Ride

Reading this book has taken over my life during the past two weeks. Oh my my my! I haven't devoured a book with this much voracity since reading Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas five or six years ago. NOM NOM NOM NOM.

Ilium takes place in an epic (yes, epic) overlap of ancient history and the far, far future. It's a multi-pronged story about Greek gods and goddesses (at least, beings who assume this classical role), the individuals the gods resurrect to have observe their divine influence in progression of The Battle of Troy, Post-Humans and MORAVECS* (*autonomous, sentient, biomechanical organisms seeded throughout the outer solar system by humans during the Lost Age) in the far future who grow weary and concerned with the harmful quantum footprints that these same gods are leaving on space and time from their lavish home on the summit of Mount Olympos - the highest point on a terraformed planet Mars...

Flaring tempers. Honor. Defiance. Luck. Robots obsessed with human literature. Hard Science. Graphic battle narration. Yeah, I'm in it to win it, folks.

Well-written, too - Props to Dan Simmons. You'd think that a story which ping-pongs between 1200 B.C. and some unspecified date in the far future would be a disorienting nightmare of a read. NAY! Simmons has crafted a smooth, textured and fun story to read. I've also gained some awesome insight into how a tale can be told. This is my first exposure to Dan Simmons, but most certainly will not be the last novel of his that I dive into - other than Olympos, the concluding half of this story, that much is a given.


Here's an excerpt from one of my favorite parts of Ilium:

“Open your eyes,” said Savi.

He did so, wildly grabbing the sonie for support with both hands a second later. Everything within his sight had been transformed. The nearby trees he had been ignoring except to borrow their shade were now towering complexities – transparent, layer upon layer of pulsing, living tissue, dead bark, vesicles, veins, dead inner material showing structural vectors and rings with columns of flowing data, the moving green and red of life – needles, xylem, phloem, water, sugar, energy sunlight. He knew that if he could read the flowing data, he would understand exactly the hydrology of the living miracle that was that tree, know exactly how many foot-pounds of pressure it was taking to osmotically raise all that water from the roots – Daeman could look down and see the roots under the soil, see the energy exchange of water from soil into those roots and the long voyage, hundreds of feet, from roots to the vertical tubules raising that water – hundreds of feet vertically! Like a giant sucking from a straw! – and then the lateral motion of the water, molecules of water in pipelines only molecules wide, out along branches fifty, sixty, seventy feet wide, narrowing, narrowing, life and nutrients in that water, energy from the sun…

Daeman looked up and saw sunlight for the discrete rain of energy it was – sunlight striking pine needles and being absorbed, sunlight striking the humus beneath his feet and warming the bacteria there. The world around him was a torrent of information, a tidal wave of data, a million micro-ecologies interacting all at once, energy to energy…

Gasping, almost gagging, Daeman whirled away, trying to shut off this vision, but everywhere was the complexity – the tagged and streaming ebb and flow of energy being passed, nutrients being absorbed, cells being fed, molecules dancing in the transparent trees, and breathing soul and sky ablaze with its rain and surge of sunlight and radio messages from the stars.

Daeman clasped his hands over his eyes, but too late; he’d looked at Savi – the old woman, but also a galaxy of life. Life nested in the flashing neurons of her brain behind that grinning skull and firing like lightning on the string of shocks along her retinal nerve and in the millions upon billions of living forms in her gut, busy and indifferent all, and – trying to look away, Daeman made the mistake of looking down at himself, into himself, past himself at his connection to the air and ground and sky…

“Off!” said Savi; Daeman’s mind echoed the command.

The brilliant midday sunlight bouncing off the trees and needle strewn soil suddenly seemed as dark as midnight to Daeman. His legs ceased to work. Gasping, Daeman slid along the edge of the somie and collapsed to the ground, rolling onto his stomach, arms extended, palms pushed flat, face pressed against pine needles.

Savi crouched next to him and patted his shoulder. “It’ll go away in a minute,” she said softly.
Quoted from Ilium by Dan Simmons

EUIII Muscowy Chapter 2 - The Barbed Web of Diplomacy

The Grand Campaign
Chapter One - In media Res

Click to play and listen while reading:


Chapter 2: The Barbed Web of Diplomacy

Muscowy, 1511 AD. A nation in the crux of its history. A rising power wedged between Western European technological progression and the advancing might of Asia’s Golden Horde – whose single-minded objective to conquer the European peninsula is impeded in large by the lands of Muscowy.

It has been a frantic ten years, wherein Muscowy has been built through warfare and the powers of diplomatic persuasion. Through the course of events we have become enmeshed in the fabric of local diplomacy. Alliances have been forged. Our enemies continue their tactful opposition. And it is here, through Diplomatic Actions, that Europa Universalis III sets itself apart as a strategy game.

Here are brief descriptions to some of the diplomatic actions relevant to this scenario:

Casus Beli – A legitimate (a term that is used loosely) and just cause for declaring war on another country. Declaring war without a Casus Beli destroys your reputation amongst other countries and quickly earns you a lot of enemies.
Proclaim Guarantee – Gives a Casus Beli against those who declare war on the selected country.
Send Warning – Gives a Casus Beli if the selected country declares war
Royal Marriage – Greatly improves relations between countries. This action may prove to be a messy affair (sometimes intentionally) when either one of the rulers passes away. The consequences are fortuitous but wars of succession are commonplace, as we shall shortly see.

Currently, this is where some of Muscowy’s diplomatic engagements lie.

Our primary concern is nurturing a relationship with Poland. They have come to our aid in the past, and it is critical that we maintain a good standing so that we may not have to face our enemies alone. And as such, it is important to understand that there are two critical aspects to diplomacy: (1) diplomacy can work both ways! And (2) the effects of diplomacy can bring about two unique consequences:

- It can provide unforeseen opportunities of growth that can only be answered by swift and decisive action.
- On the other hand, reactions from diplomatic exchanges can be far-reaching, and the results of which can catch you completely off guard and unprepared.

And currently, interestingly enough, Muscowy finds itself in both situations. As it has happened, through the barbed web of diplomacy we were entangled into being a key player in the:


And this is how diplomacy has caught Muscowy off guard…

Here’s how the lines have been drawn for this conflict: There are two tiers of enemy involvement. The first tier involves a central European powerhouse: France. Throughout this current campaign as Muscowy, Denmark has been frequently sending us requests to enter into a royal marriage, and we’ve always declined. The fact that we are currently in the THIRD war of Danish Succession only proves that this diplomatic action is being abused by Denmark. Regardless, at some point, Poland and Denmark entered into a Royal Marriage. When Denmark’s king passed from this world there was a dispute between whom from which nation shall claim the throne. Poland felt it their right to settle this matter through war. So POLAND declared war on DENMARK. And since Muscowy is allied with them it was our obligation to stand by our friends. At some point in the past FRANCE guaranteed DENMARK’s freedom. And so by involving themselves, France also brings her vassal states PROVINCE, LORRAINE, TRIER. Likewise, AQUILLA, a strong ally of France, was also called to arms.

And this is the pronged threat from the west. Countries in which we have no normal dealings with are now pitted against us because of the Barbed Web of Diplomacy. Luckily, there is enough of a geopolitical buffer between us and them that this poses no real IMMEDIATE threat, but their reputation, might and sudden involvement has caught us off guard.


The second tier of opposition is cause for much greater alarm. It involves the blunt force of our cursed enemies directly to the east: The Golden Horde.


Here is how they wiggled their way into this conflict: The Golden Horde strategically WARNED Poland. Plain and simple. Knowing that Muscowy was allied with Poland and would very likely enter war beside them it is ever apparent that the Golden Horde had their sights on Muscowy this entire time. They too seek conquest. Muscowy is a major obstacle to their progression westward. Even though we have tried to avoid a direct confrontation, alas, through diplomacy we now find ourselves mostly unprepared to fight a war with the Golden Horde's massive armies who are practically kicking down our eastern gates.

Is there a happy ending to this? Indeed. It has been mentioned that diplomacy provides unforeseen opportunities of growth, and that Muscowy currently finds itself in such a position. Hard to believe given how the odds are stacked so heavily against us. But we can - nay – we MUST pull ahead, we must triumph! Our victory involves tactful military maneuvers deep within the Golden Horde’s territory. After which, it will be time for Muscowy to shed its iron cocoon and initiate its formation into the mighty State of Russia!

- Coming soon -
Chapter 3: All on the Line

Dear Brad Copeland,

If you need a refresh: Flight of the Navigator Rave

Yes, Flight of the Navigator is undoubtedly 80’s. There are some surface elements that can afford to be upgraded, but there are also fundamental human elements that should be left alone. Here are some thoughts.

It is worth noting that the script is being written by Brad Copeland. He is most known for My Name is Earl as well as the movie Wild Hogs. I’ve seen only a couple of episodes of My Name is Earl, and from these select viewings I am filled with hope. However, Wild Hogs was a bummer – so, let’s just pretend that this hogwash of a movie doesn’t exist. Indeed. Let us cling tenaciously to the wit that abounds in the scripts of My Name is Earl and give hope that Copeland will be/currently is in this mindset when writing Flight of the Navigator. If nothing else, I’d like to hope that the charm, sincerity and all-out awesomeness of the original movie would be enough of an inspiration to come up with a stellar script.

It is my impression that the remake, if handled properly, could be, among other things, a crushingly amusing mirror of the fads, people, and events of today; a comedy of the present day, in a classical sense. Therefore, I deem it absolutely necessary that the remake keep the math that is utilized in the original: David loses eight years because of the effects of traveling near the speed of light. This is a significant amount of time in a young man’s life, as well as the course of events of this modern time in which we live.

Max, the droneship, may or may not need too much of a facelift. Its exterior’s sleek and aerodynamic design is pretty ubiquitous with what the general populous would imagine a small space craft would appear to be. As for the interior of the ship… Well, again, we’ll just have to trust the art director on this one. I honestly feel that nothing should change. It’s totally rad how all of the systems can be accessed, interfaced with, and emerge from within the seemingly empty silver interior. At the very least, give us the same slow panning shot of the initial glimpse of the interior that the original movie implements – gives me goosebumps every time I see it.

When performing the mind transfer to regain the lost star charts, Max also unwillingly collects David’s human memories. The Droneship’s vocal representation is then transformed from a stale, foreboding timbre to none other than Pee-Wee Herman’s characteristic lunacy. This can, without a single shred of doubt, be replaced in the remake. Napolean Dynamite, or something. Something. Anything. ANYTHING! But, remember, it’s gotta be topical to the first five years of the 21st century.

Dr. Faraday is the head NASA scientist who is most eager to learn from David and Max. In the original movie, this character is played Howard Hesseman – of TV’s “Head of The Class” program. I feel that it would be appropriate for Ed Harris to assume this roll in the remake; really, for no particular reason other than I kinda have a thing for Ed Harris. I dunno. Don’t judge me. Likewise, it would also create extra dimension of drama if Copeland created a 2nd in command to Faraday. This character should be played by Mike Rowe. And since the movie takes place in Florida, and it's hot in Florida, Mike Rowe should be without a shirt in every scene he's in. Don’t judge me.

And let us not forget the soundtrack. From what I’ve come to learn it is Alan Silvestri’s (Back to the Future, Predator – off the top of my head) first soundtrack created entirely in the digital realm. Such an approach was appropriate, and the proof is in the pudding. The soundtrack augments the atmosphere, drive, feeling of the movie. For the remake I foresee a match foretold in the stars: a collaboration between David Gilmour and Sounds From the Ground. The outcome of such a creative effort would yield nothing short of cosmic regality. A perfect sound for a worthy movie remake.

Aside from Silvestri’s music, there is a scene where David assumes manual control of the droneship. He instructs Max to scan the radio waves for some good tunes. After a few rejects they come to “I Get Around”, The Beach Boys’ epic tune that appropriately inspires David to activate the ships hyperockets and zip and zoom confidently through canyons and soar effortlessly through the endless sky. The moral during this brief scene is beyond words and tugs on my heart strings every time watch it. For the remake I would love to see this scene embellished and treated like a full-length music video. Throw in as much CGI as you people want; gimmie zoom shots; turn the inside of the droneship into a party. This is the apex of the story. Have fun with it.

But for all the giggles, laughs, and viewing comfort that could come from a cinematic facelift, I deem it absolutely crucial that the dramatic elements of FOTN remain untouched. David is 13 years old. He is the navigator. He knows where he wants to go, and it’s his choices, his decision-making, that may or may not get him there. Sometimes he makes wrong turns. Sometimes his emotions cloud his judgment. But the fact the he continues onward, unshaken, is a valuable life-lesson.

Flight of the Navigator is a wholesome tale of innocent wonder, coming of age, the desire to acquire knowledge, and familial love that crosses space and time. The ball is in your court Copeland, don’t screw it up.

Drudgery - May 2010 BRR Mixtape Brigade

http://www.megaupload.com/?d=P4WLDGYC

Kalkrut came to a halt. He drew a deep, wheezing breath; filling his giant lungs with the sulfurous bog air. Shin deep in bubbling sludge, he straightened his posture and adjusted the harness that came over his bare shoulders. Arcing backwards, as far as the oblong crag of limestone would allow, sounded out a rapid sequence of hollow pops. Reaching out to either side, Kalkrut grabbed hold of Cyprus trees to use their intertwining root system as resistance to stretch his broad pectorals. He strained and groaned.

After a few brief moments he became lightheaded. He then relaxed and, with great resolve, exhaled, boring a hole through the dense fog; A tunnel which brought hope, focus. But no sooner could these thoughts solidify into something tangible, Kalkrut’s glazed eyes witnessed the fog quickly fill in and once again became homogenous with the stifling blur that was all around. The oppressive grey air seemed to buzz and cling to his hulking physique in retaliation.

He sensed that there was still a great distance to go, and the humidity was sapping his strength; the limestone grew continually heavier; every heaving muscle ached for rest; the gunk in his lungs seemed to churn hotter with each breath; his hands clenched as frustration and rebellion simmered…

And just then, he blinked and quickly recalled the super-charged slaveband locked around his neck - a band that could easily encircle four or five of his puny captors. So, even if Kalkrut had had the strength to remove the rock and hurl it deep into the mangroves followed by a roar of triumph, he would still have to explain for returning to the building site with an empty harness; the penalties of which are far worse than trudging your way through a bog with a two ton chunk of limestone strapped to your back. Likewise, at this thought, he felt his weight cause him to sink deeper into the muck.

He ran a hand down his bald head and flicked globs of giant sweat into the murk. He slowly closed his eyes, took another deep breath, and with the strain evident in his facial expression Kalkrut pulled a bare foot out of the bog’s stubborn suction and took a stride forward…

Best keep moving.

Two Awesome Quotes

"Listen to the stage manager and get on stage when they tell you to. No one has time for the rock star act. None of the techs backstage care if you're David Bowie or the milkman. When you act like a jerk, they are completely unimpressed with the infantile display that you might think comes with your dubious status. They were there hours before you building the stage, and they will be there hours after you leave tearing it down. They should get your salary, and you should get theirs."
- Henry Rollins

"If you look at the deep sky for long, without averting your gaze, your thoughts and your spirit somehow blend in a consciousness of solitude. The stars that have been looking down for thousands of years, the inscrutable sky itself and the darkness, so indifferent to man's short life. Then you are reminded of the solitude that awaits all of us in the grave. [9 year-old] Yegorushka thought of Grandmother sleeping now in the graveyard beneath the cherry trees. He remembered her lying in her coffin with bronze coins over her eyes; he remembered how they had then closed the lid and lowered her into the grave; he remembered the dull thud of clods of earth on the lid... He visualized Grandmother in her dark, narrow coffin, helpless and forsaken by all. He imagined her suddenly awakening, unable to understand where she was, knocking on the lid, calling for help and in the end growing faint with terror and dying a second death."
- Anton Chekhov

This Happened

Fictional Characters I'd Hang Out With

MINION - A creation from the mind of ManCalledSun

Minion’s purpose is to destroy the weak. This is why I created it. To begin, Minion has six quadrapedal legstocks, each with variable suction hoofs. Achieving fearsome speeds with these, and myself on a Segway, we charge side by side through hordes of sissynecks, nancys, and emo fanboys. Minion can either use the raw power of his hydropiston arms to knock flailing weaklings into orbit or he can simply flex his bronze-plated alloy pectorals (as seen in the picture) and ram boobiehead pancakes into brick walls or spikes or brick walls full of spikes. I have lasers: PEW PEW PEW. Minion’s beltpack is armed with unlimited grenades, dirtybombs and anti-matter pin heads. When we need a quick recharge, my man purse is stocked with burritos and High on Fire CDs and the first season of Prison Break on DVD. Minion has razor blades coming out of his skull because a simple headbutt just isn’t enough; that, and I think it’s cool to have razorblades growing out of your skull. My white Styrofoam Segway helmet has, like, uber-reflective stickers that confuse and disorient the enemy. This is when I come up and swat them right on the adam's apple with a wiffleball bat: THWAP! NO MORE LAME SOCIAL COMMENTARY FROM YOU!

We will cleanse existence of guyliner and obnoxiously large neon sunglasses. It is our duty.

Yes, Max, those are geeks.

Flight of the Navigator is an awesome movie.

It’s about a 12 year old boy, David, who is borrowed from his home time of 1978 for study by a being of superior intelligence. Part of the Trimaxium Droneship’s (Max) study is to fill David’s brain with star charts and observe what happens when the human mind is exerted to maximum processing power.

Afterwards, David is returned to the exact spot that he was abducted, but because of the complications of the special theory of relativity, he comes to learn that it is now eight years later – everything has changed, except David. Meanwhile, on its way out of earth’s atmosphere, Max is accidentally snagged in high voltage power lines, thus erasing its memory of the very same star charts that David currently and unknowingly has stored in his brain. Now they need each other: Max needs David’s star charts to return to its home planet, David needs Max to elude NASA scientists and government officials and return safely to his family.

Awesome. Good stuff, man. Good Stuff.

I enjoy this movie. Always have. In fact, I would be comfortable declaring that “I grew up with” Flight of the Navigator. I remember boogie boarding on Pacific Beach in ‘94, imagining that I was skimming along at incredible speeds like the navigator’s spaceship, all the while sounding out Silvestri’s theme music. I remember thinking I was all cute using the “Compliance!” response when Mrs. Eastman asked for my math homework.

This movie could have very well planted the seeds for my layman interest in the workings of the universe, as well as cultivated a deep, fantastic yearning to zip and zoom in a small, single passenger space pod while blasting and singing along to awesome music:

How envious I am to be in that very seat.

As time progresses it is easy identify how watching Flight of the Navigator as a youth has shaped who I’m becoming as an adult.

Good stuff, man. Good stuff.

Originally, this blog post was going to wrap itself up right about here. The initial intent was to simply rave about an awesome movie that continues to tug on my heart strings. However, during the course of composition I stumbled across a pertinent bit of information…

I went to Google to search for a relevant graphic to head this post and began to enter: “Flight of the Navi…” Google, doing what Google does, gave a drop down menu offering search suggestions based on what I had typed in thus far. Naturally, the first completed suggestion was what I had initially sought: “Flight of the Navigator.” The second suggestion read: “Flight of the Navigator remake.”

Flight of the Navigator REMAKE?!


A flurry of emotions came to me: Firstly, there was the obligatory knee-jerk reaction of “Hollywood is running out of ideas, so Disney is just gonna go and befoul a movie that I grew up with? Just leave it alone!”; Followed quickly by, “Well, given the cinematic advances of recent years perhaps a face-lift is actually a pretty cool idea!”; Followed quickly by disgust at myself, “How dare I think so shallowly about the ‘wow’ factor of CGI! The story runs deeper than that.” And so on.

Then I decided to actually go with the Google search and read and learn what is said about the remake. I know, right? Read and become informed before jumping to conclusions…

Now armed with what little information about the remake that is given, I’m going to expand on this Rave post about Flight of the Navigator, and discuss what would make its remake a legitimate effort. My goal is to be as level-headed as possible.

Part 2: A level-headed, sort-of-biased-but-not-biased examination of what would make Flight of the Navigator's remake legit COMING SOON

Everything you do is a balloon!

By watching this video you are thereby confirming that everything you know and treasure in life is but chump change compared to the majesty and horror contained herein. Don't say I've never done anything for you.

Slightly Embellished for Dramatic Effect - April 2010 BRR Mixtape Brigade

http://www.megaupload.com/?d=5KXNBGZ9

This month's offering is a revisit to a Mix that I made a couple of years ago. I spruced it up with a couple of songs/bands I'm currently diggin on. The end result is a moody sequence with a romping sort of humility, a blasphemous sort of righteousness, a groggy sort of intensity - etc, etc. The whole is greater than the sum of it's parts.

Dig it.

The Ultimate Solution

In an effort to make roadways safer, Ohio legislation is now pushing to join twenty other states of this fine union to make it illegal to text on one’s cell phone while operating an automobile. As it pertains in Ohio: Once the law is put into force there will be a thirty day “grace period” so that - according to The Plain Dealer - “drivers and authorities get familiar with exceptions written into the proposal, including attempting to contact authorities in an emergency, reading a navigation device… dialing a number or selecting the name of a contact on cell phone” or playing Bejeweled, or watching last week’s episode of The Office, or searching an MP3 library for a dumb Gnarles Barkley song or something. And just how is all of this going to be enforced? I wish there was emoticon with a finger up his nose and eyes all crossed and groggy and tongue hanging limply out the side of his open mouth with drool collecting on the tip and falling off in steady, even drips. Oh, man that’d be awesome.

Texting is not the only enemy. What about all these broads putting on makeup? Or the idiots who did an insufficient job brushing snow and scraping ice off their windows so that they can, you know, SEE! Or, worse yet, the dumbdumbs who let their stupid dogs stupid sit in their stupid laps while they stupid drive. All of this, ladies and germs, is much more enforceable than trying to bust someone for texting while driving – an effort that I find cute and adorable. I just wanna squeeze and ruffle the hair of those politicians trying to make this legislation a big deal.

Really, the ideal and fundamental solution to safe driving is for people to not be dumb. But, at the risk of stating the obvious….

So what is the answer? What is the ideal solution? It’s quite simple, really…

It should be illegal for anyone to drive anywhere… ever - Except for me. POW! Problem solved. Think about it. This is the age of modernity! Man doesn’t produce goods anymore; just ideas, concepts and services. Likewise, to quote Jorge Borges, “I picture [modern man] in his study, as though in the watchtower of a great city, surrounded by telephones, telegraphs, phonographs, the latest in radio-telephone and motion-picture and magic-lantern equipment, and glossaries and calendars and timetables and bulletins…” We’re all connected to each other through the aether anyways! So, by this flawless logic we can deduce that people don’t need to go anywhere, ever, and the roads will be open and free for me to drive as slow or as fast as I frikkin want to.

Fictional Characters I'd Hang Out With

Data – As seen in the television SCI-FI series Star Trek the Next Generation

Data is an advanced-design sentient android prototype. It is programmed to learn and, by so, strives to become more human. It retains all information gathered through multiple sensory systems. It is void of emotions. It has neither fear nor inclination towards self-consciousness or embarrassment. However, being a learning computer, Data’s “personality” can tend to perceived as thoughtful or light-hearted; sometimes even spontaneous as it acts out in a way that it’s processing unit deems appropriate for the social situation at hand – though sometimes Data’s CPU may be wrong. Humans are fickle, y’see.

It would be fun to hang out with Data and distance ourselves from social situations where I would give the android an overview into why what everybody else is doing is, in fact, very, very wrong. I would then instruct him on how to be gracious, confident, perfect, and teach it by example. Afterwards, he would issue query commands and I would answer him graciously. We’d then discuss art, history, art history, music, art music history. Data would cite relevant objective information, but not his stupid opinion on stuff because he can’t; it is an android don’t forget… However, he would listen intently to my perfect opinion on matters such as old people, women drivers and music store employees. Then, when I would have enough discussion, Data won’t get all pissy when I tell him to shut his robot pie hole and abruptly turn and go do something else.

More Fictional Characters I'd Hang Out With coming soon...

The Beach at Night

There is a deep psychological oppression that comes with walking alone down the beach at night. It’s easy to feel a foreboding sense of vulnerability. Seemingly endless dark expanse in all directions and you are right in the epicenter. The crash of incoming waves begins to fade until you are the cause of every rippling disturbance. Every beat of your heart reverberates into the endless distances. Collapsing mountainside’s pale in comparison to every razing footstep taken in the fine, white sand.

Everyone and everything knows exactly where you are. They can see your face. They can read your thoughts. They: The Darkness.

You stare into the Darkness, and the Darkness stares into you. Weaknesses and self-doubt are screaming in your expressions. A lifetime of wayward thoughts are condensed and easily observed, judged. Wonder quickly turns into apprehension. Strength is diminished and helpless child-like fear gradually builds. All hopes and passions are eclipsed by the Darkness’ constant probing for more imperfections. Nothing is hidden. Nothing is overlooked.

Inuit Throat Singing

Working as a hired thug (Stagehand, audio crew, light crew) for the Cleveland Museum of Art's VIVA! & Gala series has distinct advantages. Aside from the excellent occupational experience, I am also privy to witness awesome and unique performances that I otherwise would be totally ignorant to. One such performance took place just last evening.

Tanya Tagaq is a traditional Inuit Throat Singer. Inuit Throat Singers use their voice to mimic the natural world around them. Letting this sink in for a moment it becomes apparent that this can make way for a very dynamic performance. Tanya has done solo performances as well as shared the stage with string quartets and various other troupes.

For her performance here in Cleveland she was accompanied by a drummer and a guitarist. The terms "Drummer" and "Guitarist" are used loosely in this application because neither musician played his instruments in what one would think is a "traditional" role. Indeed. They were armed with a whole bevy of guitar pedals, touch-pad synthesizers, laptops loaded with - from what I was able to glimpse - Sony Acid, small mixers, E-Bows - all kinds of fun toys, thus giving this act a modern kind of pulse which artistically contrasts Tanya's traditional vocals.

This is an interesting clash of styles, unconventional, but what we all heard on stage last night was not so much "music", but more of a sound, a space - a mimicry of some strange and twisted world.

And I loved every second of it. I'm glad I wasn't the one running the sound board because I was able to close my eyes and trip hard to what my ears were telling me. I was captivated, convinced. About a dozen people felt otherwise during the show. Seeing these old farts fumble their way to the aisle and rush to the back doors like some evil was just at their heels gave cause for me to enjoy this performance even more.

Here is a video from one of her more recent performances. The setup last night was slightly different from what you'll see here, and the sound isn't that great, and we're jumping right into the middle of the set (there may be a few uncomfortable moments of adjustment), but this is just a glimpse of... Well, you'll have to find out for yourself.


Tanya Tagaq @ Palac Akropolis

Tanya Tagaq | MySpace Music Videos

OH, MY MY MY! - March 2010 Mixtape Brigade

http://www.megaupload.com/?d=JVMVGPP7

LOL! Check it out! He's totally farting on the face of King George! LOL!

Indeed. This mix is my answer to the inevitable cabin fever that sets in around this time of the year caused by extreme wintry conditions. Or, better yet, this is for anybody who needs a new weapon to battle boredom. Play it in the background as you undertake that long-overdue personal project, home improvement projects, whatever. So long as you crank it to eleven, jam like nobody's watching, and fart on the face of boredom.

This man is my blood.

Say hello to my great-uncle Richard. Hello, great-uncle Richard. Thanks to my Grandmother's tireless dedication to genealogy research he and I have finally become acquainted - Hello, great-uncle Richard.

Let's take a brief moment to discuss the impression that this photograph gives. Firstly, it's very noir, yes? Therefore, right off the bat, we can deduce that my great-uncle Richard was a badass. Awesome. Now that this is established let's probe deeper. The picture was taken at a slight angle which convincingly gives him a dominating presence. Look at the confidence in which he holds the rifle, body rigid and ready to take action - This man is callous, seasoned and knows no fear. Look at the size of his hands. He's not afraid to get them dirty. In fact, that's how he prefers it. Look at the stern look in his face. He's alert, focused and ready to grease some commie scum. I feel safe knowing great-uncle Richard is keeping watch. He means business.

This man is my blood. He stands tall - and armed - among the other heavy hitters in my family line. My family tree can destroy your family tree.

soda.

Crack for kids

My cousin asked me the following questions for a project in school. I like these kinds of moments where I can stop and spend a few moments to take tally of what's currently going on.

1. What do you think are the major responsibilities of being a parent?

- Making sure your kid isn't a jerk.
- Being fully aware that you are raising the next generation of humanity.

2. What do you think are the major rewards of being a parent?

- I like to think far ahead to when our kids are grown and they're reminiscing about family vacations, holidays, triumphs, tragedies... just knowing and feeling that their parents helped raise them to live a full and meaningful life thus far.

3. What changes occurred in your life when you became a parent?

Time spent with my significant other is much more valuable and precious.

4. What is one joy of parenting that stands out for you?

When complete strangers (grown men, even!) will stop dead in their tracks and compliment on how cute and well-behaved my kid is. This helps me realize that we must be doing something right!

5. What is one problem you have experienced as a parent?

My patience is terrible. TERRIBLE! Here I was before parenthood thinking that I've got nerves of steel and a level head. HA! How ignorant I was!

6. What do you wish you had known before becoming a parent?

Be prepared to be tired every single day for the rest of your life. No, really. Fatigue is a truly foreign concept before parenthood.

7. What is one thing that your child/children love doing?

The Wiggles have stormed into our lives with unstoppable force. It's like CRACK to this kid! It's the first thing he asks for when he wakes up, the last thing he mumbles to himself as he's falling asleep for the night. Sustenance, nourishment, motherly coddling - it all takes the back seat to The Wiggles. Unreal.

EUIII Muscowy Chapter 1 - In medias res

Overall, I think Europa Universalis III proves my theory that there are two types of people in the world:

- Those who play for fun
- Those who play to win

How does one “win” EUIII? Don’t think of the game’s objective as a single victory, but more so an ongoing evolution of gameplay. It’s kind of like the classic situation with the board game Monopoly: You can play forever and ever and ever but the game never really seems to end, you just keep going trying to place as many hotels as possible, conspire with other players, or, try your darndest to keep your head above water. Instead of representing oneself as a Top Hat or a Scotty Dog the player selects a nation to control.

Introducing:

The year is 1511 AD, one hundred and thirteen years since the beginning of this - my first attempt at a – grand campaign. Muscowy’s state religion is Orthodox, type of government is Despotic Monarchy.

Under this system, kings and their attributes are chosen at random when the current ruler dies. Several kings have come and gone since the game’s start, causing the blue difficulty bar to tilt in relation to how many stars the leader can lend to our cause. King Fyodor III is legit, meh, so-so. In this present situation I’d like to see more stars under Military, but, as with the rest of this game, you’ve got to roll with what you’ve got…

And what exactly does the rising power known as Muscowy currently have in terms of land?
(Clicking the pictures will enlarge them)

Muscowy is beige. The clump here in the middle as well as the three provinces to the west makes a total of nineteen provinces. Not too shabby. I could’ve played more aggressively in the beginning, but I’m content with where I’m at now - There are drawbacks to expanding so quickly. Having four sea-side provinces, whereas having none in the beginning, is a definite perk. Plus, it’s cool that I have to zoom out in order to see all of Muscowy.

We’ll discuss neighbors and other players in this eastern Europe/western-central Russia Theater later on.

Be it known, that the following topics will make sense when the time comes. What I’m doing right now is taking the pieces out of the box and placing them on the board.


Financially, Muscowy ain’t doin too hot. My main source of income, luckily, comes from taxes. However, trade and production efficiency is terribly low. These numbers will go up as higher technology levels are achieved (The colored bars on the right.)

It’s a long story but technology research – labeled “investments” on the scroll - is slow due to all the money being sucked into the treasury, thus giving me a hellacious inflation rate – everything costs an extra 45% of the base price, and growing annually. Also, due to the country’s physical location the game puts it in the “Eastern Tech Group” which means my research is slightly slower than the rest of Western Europe. But, steps can be taken to adjust both of these factors and turn things to our favor, which we will get into shortly(IMPORTANT).


Muscowy’s military roster looks much more attractive than its 16th century financial Excel Spreadsheets. I’ve got five separate armies, each with 6,000 men. Three of these are comprised of infantry because they are faster to train and cheaper to maintain. Two armies consists solely of 6,000 Calvary units. These may be more expensive to maintain but are invaluable in traversing the vast terrain of western/central asia (IMPORTANT). I’ve had this setup for most of the game and they’ve served me relatively well both in offence and defensive maneuvers. As always, there could always be more military presence, but the budget is stretched thin as it is. This is where diplomacy becomes a crucial factor (IMPORTANT).


THE GOOD GUYS
Here’s what the map is showing you:
(1) Muscowy in all her might and majesty
(2) Hungary recently sought us in forming an alliance. They have a strong land force and a growing navy. Distance may be an issue, though.
(3) Poland and Muscowy have been an alliance for the past fifty years or so. They have a good military, and have come to our aid many times. They too feel at odds about…

THE BAD GUYS
(4) Lithuania. I’ve sought time and time again to ease relations with them but they just don’t want to cooperate. So I take comfort in knowing that Poland (whatever their beef may be) and Muscowy flank this stubborn nation on two of its three sides. And when the time is necessary we WILL strike this country (IMPORTANT)

And just who is this nation on Lithuania’s southeast border? Who is this grey mass? Ladies and Gentlemen, the main antagonist to this series, and threat to the security and survival of Muscowy:



Coming soon
Chapter Two: The Barbed Web of Diplomacy

The Grand Campaign

Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the Introduction blog entry of my current game of Europa Universalis III: In Nomine. Through proceeding blog posts it is my intention to follow the drama and excitement(!!) of playing as the great nation of Muscowy!

Normally this type of thing is for the game’s message board - called “After Action Reports” - but I thought it would be a cool challenge to try to explain to a lay audience, in narrative form, the complexities of the game’s mechanics and put into words the epic drama (no, seriously) that is inherent with devoting many, many, many, many hours to playing as a single nation. So, I will attempt to keep it simple, relevant and totally not boring.

Briefly, Europa Universalis III: In Nomine (EUIII) is a historical grand strategy game. You can pick from a list of hundreds of countries to play. The Grand Campaign runs from 1399AD to 1821AD, though you can always pick a starting date any time in between. The cool thing about how this game is that it too flows with history. So while you’re struggling to seize control of the Balkans, there’s a good chance that, at the same time, Spain is colonizing the new world, and France and England are constantly in conflict with each other. How do you use all of this to your advantage? The game gives a lot of data and it’s up to the player to make wise and timely decisions.

EUIII is a fun game. I enjoy it. A little intimidating sometimes, but still satisfying to play. My current game as Muscowy (Modern-day western Russia-ish) has been a great learning experience. This is one of the reasons why I’m going to try to follow through with upcoming blog posts. The other is that right now I’m in a very interesting tactical position, and the outcome is hinged on making a single critical decision: Go or no go.

Stay tuned!

For those buried under snow this day:

Three down, eternity more to go!

Our anniversary was this week, and it got me thinking:

We make an interesting pair, Sarah and I. We receive comments all the time about how we "balance" each other. And this is true, though this is not as simple of a balancing act as one would initially think. Here, let me show you:

Here is a classic representation of the scales of justice.

Pretty straight forward, right? In the application of a couple "balancing" each other out it's easy to see each person sitting indian-style on each side of the scale while winking and blowing kisses to each other. Awww, how cute.

But, this scenario is also a bunch of CRAP!

Here's how I see Sarah and myself:

Not only is this contemporary mobile way cooler, it is also a much more accurate representation of how we do, indeed, balance each other out. Sarah and I are complex individuals, we feel deeply. Think of the idiom "Still Waters Run Deep" and then add a couple hundred more fathoms and you've got the idea. The reason why we may sometimes seem unapproachable is because we're always so busy being deep and complex and mysterious. That, and we're totally shy, but...

I'd like to think that these deep reserves of emotion is the unifying force in our marriage, it is what makes me look forward. If we were only treading on the surface - clinging to the more shallow attributes and interests - we wouldn't have made it even this far. This is because neither one of us ever pictured ourselves being with the type of person we are currently with. Did that make sense? Here, let me do another illustration.

*please note: The following pictures are intentionally of inanimate objects and not of a specific type of person or individual. Even if I had posted the world's hunkiest chunk of ManHunk I still would've gotten in big fat trouble for posting some mediocre-looking female celebrity. I know how you women are. And just by declaring "I know how you women are" also just got me in big fat trouble. Therefore - to digress slightly - women are nothing but trouble.

Nick thought he'd end up with someone like

this collection of watercolors and oil paintings

Sarah thought she'd end up with someone like

this organized, stiff and professional workplace.

But, alas, we didn’t “end up” with each other. We worked hard to get where we are today, and it’s been a real trip. Every day is a new adventure in the land of matrimony and I am grateful that Sarah is the one here to experience it with me. And if teaming together to raise the super-force that is Mitchell isn’t enough to forge our bonds even stronger then I can’t even comprehend what could - Man, this kid is crazy.

Really, I could go into this huge psychology discourse to explain why it is Sarah and I totally rule together. But, the fundamental reasons for our awesomeness are that our hearts are in the right place and tightly knit together. We share the same long-term and long-long-long-long term goals. She’s a wonderful person who feels deeply for others. She works very hard and doesn’t gripe about it. She loves her little boy. She loves her family. She loves her in-laws (I know, right!?) Her smile makes me smile. She is the strong arm.

She’s lucky to have me - HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!

The Air in Meager Valley - February 2010 BRR Mixtape Brigade

Feb 16, 1908

Our hope is frail, now. Be there any sound louder than a whisper and it will dissipate, swirl away right before our eyes. It is gray all around. This curtain of snow masks the detail of anything that is ahead. The surrounding ranges continue to exist; their outlines rising and sliding, dancing as if in mockery. Or is it encouragement? Puzzling. The unbroken trail before us will prove challenging. But, oh, what a place, this valley.

Our supplies are dwindling, gear worn and weathered, grub almost gone. We’ve ceased lunching altogether. Set mealtimes only encourage eating more than what is essential to sustain. Roseblood is skittish, but continues to bob her head to the rhythm of unheard ‘ol timey ditties.

Indeed, there is something queer about this valley.

The wooden sign before the broken town two days past read “Meager Valley.” Its abandoned structures were in shambles. Windows were shattered, the roofs collecting and spilling snow drifts. Rusted store signs dangled haplessly, sheltered wooden walkways gray and splintered with age. And yet, the place did not feel vacant. I dare say haunted, though I haven’t the morale to entertain such idiocy; Ernie would certainly lose his head at the very mention. I find it necessary to conclude that this town grew very quickly and then vanished like fingers pinching out a candle’s flame.

There is an air here in Meager Valley. Intoxicating, almost. The wind that blows on our backs, coming from the abandoned town, carries more than wintry chill; it carries the echoed wills and ambitions of all of those that have ever passed through. Even the ranges that now surround us seem to be carrying us onward. Not like the sirens of Homer’s Odyssey. No. The mystery is not before us, it is already here. The air carries strange vibrations, undercurrents, unseen ribbons of influence. As if the souls that once lived in that ramshackle town followed us out and now inhabit these very peaks, and in blissful solitude sing out with strength and salve, smeared somewhat by distance and wind, but still ring true.

Yes.

We can make the journey.

*New Blog Post*

*Apology for not updating more frequently*
*Excessively long narrative on the mundane stuff that's been happening*
*Excitement at finding a new recipe:*
*Recipe for some gross dinner-log thing that includes mushrooms and olives*
*Picture of own and/or hubby's feet/shoes*
*Pictures taken yesterday that are self-proclaimed as "artsy" though not outwardly declared*
*Pictures of kids doing adorable kid stuff accompanied by witty captions*
*Gratitude to friends, family*
*Web link to some cheesy inspirational poem or blog*
[/Blog post]

*Check back multiple times a day to see if anyone has left a comment pertaining to said post*

I was wrong.

Don't be alarmed! It happens sometimes.

Mitchell's daycare had a Holiday ditty last month for all of the parents. Each age group had their own show planned and practiced. Mitchell is in the toddler group. There are about eight or nine toddlers. The plan was to march them down through the aisle - past all the parents, mind you - and keep these toddler's in one place and, as a single adorable little troupe, sing two songs complete with props and hand gestures. Every bullet point to this presentation posed the possibility of the entire thing crashing and burning; A spectacle that myths are made of.

Mitchell was Mr. Crabbypants the night of the show. Actually, he was being a b*#$%y little prima donna - forgive me, but it's true. From getting him dressed to trying to get him into the car seat he fought us every step of the way. I was frazzled, Sarah was frazzled. And to the added pressure Gramma and Grampa and Mitchell's aunties were driving across town to come witness this sure-to-be Epic Failure.

The following empirical evidence proves otherwise. Thanks to Grandpa J for the stellar cinematography and interwebs know how.

The walls are laughing at you.

Our new place is legit. It's still classified as an apartment, yes, but the extra 400 sq. feet is totally awesome and gives Mitchell the much-needed space to romp around like he owns the joint. The apartment also comes with a huge balcony, of which - weather permitting - I do intend to sit upon and read every word and twisted idea ever written by Alistair Reynolds. It is also on this very balcony that I will lock in my family, face the cool evening breeze and muse, ponder and fill every inch of the blank notebook I just bought with chicken scratch, jibberjabber and nonsense. It will be glorious.

But that is then - this is now. It's time for more pressing matters. Part of the appeal of the new apartment is the vaulted ceiling in the living room and the extra sense of space it gives. Oh, baby, it's great.

The only downside is that our back living room wall is enormous - ENORMOUS! The dimensions of this flatland come to 22 feet long and 12 feet high. These numbers have been rounded up to the nearest foot for the purpose of slightly exaggerating just how big of a beast we're dealing with. While this may not be a big deal to some, the Jonses see it as a daunting blank canvas; something that taunts us, giggles at us saying "find a creative and stylish way to decorate me! MWA HA HA HA!!" Indeed, to just leave the wall naked would drive me batty. Batty I tell you!

So what's the solution? With a surface area this huge we're going to have to think outside of the box.

Sarah speaks of buying groovy fabric patterns to mount onto plywood or something thereof, thus creating big mural-type wall hangings. This is a good idea because it would definitely spice up the room and would also serve as an acoustic dampener.

My boyfriend Chrismack had the totally awesome idea that totally blew my mind. He suggested that we should turn the wall into a floor. Like, mount furniture in a way that it gives the sense that you're looking from the top down. Immediately, I thought it would be super sweet to make a bowling alley. Or maybe an oldskool arcade. Or maybe a disco dance floor. Or maybe a reversed and mirror image of our living room!! How far down the rabbit hole can this go?

Here's my idea. It's awesome and the best one yet. Take the following picture and enlarge it to the appropriate dimensions:

Now, one may be compelled to ask: Why? Is this really necessary?

Why? WHY!? I'll tell you why! Because it's frikkin CREEDENCE, that's why! Of course it's necessary - DUH! When something is as vital to your existence as the very blood that flows through your veins it only makes sense to spend the hundreds of dollars to see the task through, right? Weeeeeeeee!!! Sarah can get used to it.