A week before the NCAA Men's Basketball Tournament, aka March Madness, got started, I opined the final four would be North Carolina (winners of Illinois in the final, according to my prognostication), UConn, Louisville and the aforementioned Illini of Illinois. My only miss was UConn, who ended up in the same bracket as UNC. Felt pretty good about those predictions.
Unfortunately, had more than a few wrong picks on the road to the final four and went without winning a prize in the various pools I entered this season (One pool is still adjudging a tie-breaker, so there might be a Sony PlayStation afterall). But, for some reason, I just don't succeed in March Madness contests in odd-numbered years.
Enough complaining about the roundball, time to turn to rubber-necking.
The World Men's Hockey Championships started today (well, yesterday. This IS Sunday afterall. But I'm still on the Saturday clock). All four of my first-day picks won. And not ONE of them won convincingly enough for my tastes. I thought this was the easiest day of selection, only to watch Canada struggle against Latvia, the Russians need an empty-net goal and the Finns BARELY beat Denmark. Hunh?
Going into this tourney, I thought to myself that the prevailing winds were going to blow badly for two-time defending champion Canada. And today's contest seemed to back up my feeling that this squad was going to trip up somewhere before the gold medal game's anthem. The Czechs and the Swedes were popular choices to join Canada at the medal podium. But my gut told me Russia, Canada and Finland were going to be the medallists.
The feeling in my gut today? I hope it was something I ate, cuz right now, none of the three look particularly threatening. Still if Nash, Thornton and Gagne are the dynamite line they can be and Martin Brodeur shook all the rust off against Latvia, the Canucks will at least be PLAYING in the game for the gold. But those are no lead-pipe cinches. Maybe the Czechs, Slovaks and Swedes will look awful tomorrow. If not, this might be the final cruel blow of a cruel winter that has seen Canadian property, the world Junior Mens, Senior Women's and Under-18 Men's titles end up in the USA rather than there rightful place here in the Great White North.
Damn odd year.
Sunday, May 01, 2005
TV: R.I.P. J.A.G.
It's been too long since I posted here, mostly because of a silly, insane work schedule. I told the big boss that this weekend was for lying flat on the back and digging into the six-week old hoarde of video-taped TV. Maybe a book (Al Sarrantanio's Haydn of Mars, if you are wondering).
I caught a couple of J.A.G.'s right off and decided that this was the time to jump ship and plough right through to the final. I just finished watching the series' last episode. Loved it. Schmaltzy and just a little left of predictable, but this Sam really did get his Diane.
Some confessions here. David James Elliott's mother plays bridge here in this area. I started watching the show mainly to not have to lie to her about seeing her son's exploits on any given Friday when I might find myself in Milton at her table. To be honest, I was more interested in his two co-stars that first year, Andrea Parker, who I was not familiar with, and Tracey Needham, the tall blonde goddess in the making, ex of Life Goes On.
The show was a so-so freshman and was actually cancelled, before moving from NBC to CBS and losing the two attractive co-stars to bring in Catherine Bell. I'd be lying if I said I remembered her from her brief first-season guesting role late in the season. And I was less than thrilled she was replacing Needham (remember, GODDESS in the making). But hey, I still had to answer to Patricia and I kept watching the show.
And, wouldn't you know it, Catherine Bell grew on me. And her character, Mac Mackenzie, grew on Elliott's character Harm Rabb. So much so, that as the show's end loomed ever larger, I felt like most loyal viewers, "Come on already, tear down the wall and get together!"
The series finale did not disappoint. It brought a fitting conclusion to 10 years of occasionally jingoistic TV that usually entertained while preserving it's commercial appeal to the American Navy and Marine corps. Bluntly, many of its tales of heroism were entertaining and spine-tingling as all get out.
My single favourite episode was the one early last season where Harm lands a big non-military plane on an aircraft carrier. Thought that was a big of TV bluster ... until the end credits rolled with some archival film footage. It had actually been done back in the 60's. The tingling reminded me of just how much stranger truth is than fiction.
JAG was not just Elliott and Bell. Patrick Laborteaux, who was always "Matt's brother" until he landed the coming-of-age role as Bud Roberts, regularly turned the sidekick role into an attention-getter. The last two JAG heads, John Jackson and the always fascinating David Andrews, were enjoyable curmudgeons. And the last in a list of good gunnies, Zoe McLellan, was fun to watch. Bud's wife Harriet, as played by Karri Turner, was the living embodiment of Mother Know's Best, a fact frequently alluded to in the finale. And no actor's list at JAG goes without listing the troubled Trevor Goddard, an Aussie pain in the butt on the show. His death by suicide was one of too many footnotes on the show honouring the dead.
I liked this show. I'll miss it. But it ran its course to a successful conclusion. Congrats to Don Bellisario and the crew for giving me so many hours of enjoyment.
I caught a couple of J.A.G.'s right off and decided that this was the time to jump ship and plough right through to the final. I just finished watching the series' last episode. Loved it. Schmaltzy and just a little left of predictable, but this Sam really did get his Diane.
Some confessions here. David James Elliott's mother plays bridge here in this area. I started watching the show mainly to not have to lie to her about seeing her son's exploits on any given Friday when I might find myself in Milton at her table. To be honest, I was more interested in his two co-stars that first year, Andrea Parker, who I was not familiar with, and Tracey Needham, the tall blonde goddess in the making, ex of Life Goes On.
The show was a so-so freshman and was actually cancelled, before moving from NBC to CBS and losing the two attractive co-stars to bring in Catherine Bell. I'd be lying if I said I remembered her from her brief first-season guesting role late in the season. And I was less than thrilled she was replacing Needham (remember, GODDESS in the making). But hey, I still had to answer to Patricia and I kept watching the show.
And, wouldn't you know it, Catherine Bell grew on me. And her character, Mac Mackenzie, grew on Elliott's character Harm Rabb. So much so, that as the show's end loomed ever larger, I felt like most loyal viewers, "Come on already, tear down the wall and get together!"
The series finale did not disappoint. It brought a fitting conclusion to 10 years of occasionally jingoistic TV that usually entertained while preserving it's commercial appeal to the American Navy and Marine corps. Bluntly, many of its tales of heroism were entertaining and spine-tingling as all get out.
My single favourite episode was the one early last season where Harm lands a big non-military plane on an aircraft carrier. Thought that was a big of TV bluster ... until the end credits rolled with some archival film footage. It had actually been done back in the 60's. The tingling reminded me of just how much stranger truth is than fiction.
JAG was not just Elliott and Bell. Patrick Laborteaux, who was always "Matt's brother" until he landed the coming-of-age role as Bud Roberts, regularly turned the sidekick role into an attention-getter. The last two JAG heads, John Jackson and the always fascinating David Andrews, were enjoyable curmudgeons. And the last in a list of good gunnies, Zoe McLellan, was fun to watch. Bud's wife Harriet, as played by Karri Turner, was the living embodiment of Mother Know's Best, a fact frequently alluded to in the finale. And no actor's list at JAG goes without listing the troubled Trevor Goddard, an Aussie pain in the butt on the show. His death by suicide was one of too many footnotes on the show honouring the dead.
I liked this show. I'll miss it. But it ran its course to a successful conclusion. Congrats to Don Bellisario and the crew for giving me so many hours of enjoyment.
Wednesday, March 09, 2005
TV: Old, Not So Old and Current SF Series
During the last month or so, I haven't had any hockey to while away my spare hours and that's meant digging out some old SF series on video and DVD to take a look at how things have progressed over the years.
In roughly a month, I saw the whole of the Space: Above and Beyond and Crusade series, as well as all of the episodes of Battlestar Galactica 2004. To be honest, I watched the first half of the Crusade series, then all of Galactica and Space, then the remainder of the Crusade series. But it was fascinating to watch the computer effects of the shows that span from Space's 1989 to Crusade's 1999 to last year's Galactica.
And you know, the 15-year old Space series probably stands up the best!
Yet another series that lost out due to expensive production, you can see all that money up on the screen. The incredibly jingoistic series was an artistic success and it's a shame it couldn't last. It did get a whole 24-episode season rather than the 13-episode (or less) trial that "modern-day" series get, but ended on an ambiguous note that could be an ending or a cliff-hanger. I was satisfied for the viewing experience, but wish I could have seen more adventures.
The day I put Space to rest, I saw taped episodes of NCIS and Law and Order:Special Victims Unit that featured guests Morgan Weisser and Joel DelaFuente respectively. It was a bit weird, since I couldn't remember seeing either actor much over the last few years. In fact, the only members of the Fightin' 58th I can remember seeing with any regularity this century were James Morrison and Lanei Chapman. Otherwise it's been like the group was lost in space. (One guest-starring role worth seeing in Space is the one with Richard Kind, playing against his usual comedic arch-type).
Crusade was a new-born babe with no sense of form when it got canned. J.M. Straczynski was fresh off the Bablyon 5 success and wanted something the same but different. And the focus hadn't coalesced when this series came to an end. In fact, the interesting (but sparse) extra features in the DVD set of Crusade hints at an overall story that would have been worth watching.
Gary Cole's commander Matthew Gideon only emphasizes the limited range Scott Bakula has at the helm of the now-doomed USS Enterprise. Unfortunately, the only other constants were Cole's right-hand man Daniel Dae Kim and a badly-underused Marjean Holden as the doctor. Other members of the ensemble cast proved anything but regular. A de-glammed Carrie Dobro was the one resident alien and had some promise, as did the annoying corporate barracuda/smart guy Max, played with smarminess by David Allan Brooks. Babylon 5 carryover Tracy Scoggins lit up her three episodes as a captain capable of tangling with Cole and that got her star billing on the series, despite being in less than a quarter of the shows.
But the one character with the most promise was Peter Woodward's technomage character, Galen. His dry, deadpan humour infused his episodes with the most needed component of any SF series, laughs. Humourless SF is horrible. Galen added laughs, mystery, an easy out for some problems, and a riposte for Cole when Scoggins wasn't around. Woodward, Edward's son, was extremely memorable. He popped up in a Charmed episode just after I finished Crusade, keeping my weird meter running.
In many ways, the Crusade SFX were better than Crusade's. But where Space looked dilapidate and dirty effectively, there were odd glaring instances where the brightness of Crusade was just a little wobbly. In fact, Straczynski mentions one glitch repeatedly in the commentary he does for one show. And it doesn't help (although it is explained in a couple of ways) that the crew uniforms go through several changes during the 13-show run.
Which brings me to the darker and grittier Battlestar Galactica. It's been renewed for a 20-episode second season and that is a good thing. But I hope some things the creators cherish disappear during the 'off-season.'
Those among the viewership that bemoan Starbuck and Boomer change of genders to the interesting Katee Sackhoff and appealing Grace Park are all misogynists. Both actresses do a fine job. On the other hand, the human-appearing Cylons don't do much for me and I'm truly irritated by Tricia Helfer's Six, a mind construct for the weasely Dr. Baltar played by Jim Callis. He's too smart, she intrudes too much and nobody notices the man talking to the shadows. Un hunh. Yes, Helfer is gorgeous. No, she's not needed. The 'enemy among us' plot line would succeed just find without her.
Edward James Olmos' Commander Adama has more depth and gravitas than Lorne Greene had and he's fun to watch. As is sparring partner Mary McDonnell as the dying President. But the fun performance to watch is Michael Hogan's turn as Colonel Tigh. The embodiment of Gruff, Hogan and Olmos take turns in being the restrained powder keg in command central. And let's not forget Richard Hatch, the old Apollo and new bad guy with a heart of fool's gold. For a guy who fought long and hard against this incarnation of Battlestar Galactica, he's climbed on board impressively.
Which brings up the special effects. The show has a future retro vibe that works in the main. But everything is SOOOOOO dark lighting-wise, the SFX guys are fighting a loosing battle. The same grittiness worked for Space. But it fails to hold the attention here. I guess I expected better.
I hope Galactica gets off the ships and hits the planet-sides once in a while this coming season. I want to see more of Hatch and his plots and less, much less, of Six and Baltar having mind-sex constantly. But most of all, I'm just happy to see a SF series get a second season.
In roughly a month, I saw the whole of the Space: Above and Beyond and Crusade series, as well as all of the episodes of Battlestar Galactica 2004. To be honest, I watched the first half of the Crusade series, then all of Galactica and Space, then the remainder of the Crusade series. But it was fascinating to watch the computer effects of the shows that span from Space's 1989 to Crusade's 1999 to last year's Galactica.
And you know, the 15-year old Space series probably stands up the best!
Yet another series that lost out due to expensive production, you can see all that money up on the screen. The incredibly jingoistic series was an artistic success and it's a shame it couldn't last. It did get a whole 24-episode season rather than the 13-episode (or less) trial that "modern-day" series get, but ended on an ambiguous note that could be an ending or a cliff-hanger. I was satisfied for the viewing experience, but wish I could have seen more adventures.
The day I put Space to rest, I saw taped episodes of NCIS and Law and Order:Special Victims Unit that featured guests Morgan Weisser and Joel DelaFuente respectively. It was a bit weird, since I couldn't remember seeing either actor much over the last few years. In fact, the only members of the Fightin' 58th I can remember seeing with any regularity this century were James Morrison and Lanei Chapman. Otherwise it's been like the group was lost in space. (One guest-starring role worth seeing in Space is the one with Richard Kind, playing against his usual comedic arch-type).
Crusade was a new-born babe with no sense of form when it got canned. J.M. Straczynski was fresh off the Bablyon 5 success and wanted something the same but different. And the focus hadn't coalesced when this series came to an end. In fact, the interesting (but sparse) extra features in the DVD set of Crusade hints at an overall story that would have been worth watching.
Gary Cole's commander Matthew Gideon only emphasizes the limited range Scott Bakula has at the helm of the now-doomed USS Enterprise. Unfortunately, the only other constants were Cole's right-hand man Daniel Dae Kim and a badly-underused Marjean Holden as the doctor. Other members of the ensemble cast proved anything but regular. A de-glammed Carrie Dobro was the one resident alien and had some promise, as did the annoying corporate barracuda/smart guy Max, played with smarminess by David Allan Brooks. Babylon 5 carryover Tracy Scoggins lit up her three episodes as a captain capable of tangling with Cole and that got her star billing on the series, despite being in less than a quarter of the shows.
But the one character with the most promise was Peter Woodward's technomage character, Galen. His dry, deadpan humour infused his episodes with the most needed component of any SF series, laughs. Humourless SF is horrible. Galen added laughs, mystery, an easy out for some problems, and a riposte for Cole when Scoggins wasn't around. Woodward, Edward's son, was extremely memorable. He popped up in a Charmed episode just after I finished Crusade, keeping my weird meter running.
In many ways, the Crusade SFX were better than Crusade's. But where Space looked dilapidate and dirty effectively, there were odd glaring instances where the brightness of Crusade was just a little wobbly. In fact, Straczynski mentions one glitch repeatedly in the commentary he does for one show. And it doesn't help (although it is explained in a couple of ways) that the crew uniforms go through several changes during the 13-show run.
Which brings me to the darker and grittier Battlestar Galactica. It's been renewed for a 20-episode second season and that is a good thing. But I hope some things the creators cherish disappear during the 'off-season.'
Those among the viewership that bemoan Starbuck and Boomer change of genders to the interesting Katee Sackhoff and appealing Grace Park are all misogynists. Both actresses do a fine job. On the other hand, the human-appearing Cylons don't do much for me and I'm truly irritated by Tricia Helfer's Six, a mind construct for the weasely Dr. Baltar played by Jim Callis. He's too smart, she intrudes too much and nobody notices the man talking to the shadows. Un hunh. Yes, Helfer is gorgeous. No, she's not needed. The 'enemy among us' plot line would succeed just find without her.
Edward James Olmos' Commander Adama has more depth and gravitas than Lorne Greene had and he's fun to watch. As is sparring partner Mary McDonnell as the dying President. But the fun performance to watch is Michael Hogan's turn as Colonel Tigh. The embodiment of Gruff, Hogan and Olmos take turns in being the restrained powder keg in command central. And let's not forget Richard Hatch, the old Apollo and new bad guy with a heart of fool's gold. For a guy who fought long and hard against this incarnation of Battlestar Galactica, he's climbed on board impressively.
Which brings up the special effects. The show has a future retro vibe that works in the main. But everything is SOOOOOO dark lighting-wise, the SFX guys are fighting a loosing battle. The same grittiness worked for Space. But it fails to hold the attention here. I guess I expected better.
I hope Galactica gets off the ships and hits the planet-sides once in a while this coming season. I want to see more of Hatch and his plots and less, much less, of Six and Baltar having mind-sex constantly. But most of all, I'm just happy to see a SF series get a second season.
SPORTS: Gonzaga or Louisville?
A month ago, I 'knew' my final four for the upcoming NCAA basketball championships was Kansas, Illinois, North Carolina and Duke. A week ago, I 'knew' the final four was Illinois, North Carolina, Kansas and UConn.
Today, what I know is that I don't know who to pick to complete my final four with North Carolina, Illinois and UConn. Will it be Gonzaga or Louisville? I think the TarHeels will beat Illinois in a low-scoring final, but I like Charlie Villanueva to get UConn close and I have to choose between Rony Turiaf of Gonzaga and Francisco Garcia of Louisville as this year's Travis Diener. Rick Pitino makes Garcia the pick, draw permitting of course.
Wake Forest? Chris Paul is outta control and will get distracted at a key moment. So many good guards out there means John Lucas will get shut down before Oklahoma State runs the whole race. Duke's short bench means any tightly-officiated game is deadly to my favourite team's chances. Boston College, Syracuse and Pitt all have flaws, although BC's hidden theirs longer.
Kentucky loses with one sub-par Patrick Sparks game. Florida, Alabama and LSU are heartbreakers for their fans. Arizona and Washington will eventually come up against defenders capable of stopping Salim Stoudamire and Nate Robinson respectively. And Utah feels like a cozy pick until you look at the litany of teams they have beaten, and don't recognize anybody other than LSU. Pacific is the terror that wins two and celebrates a good year. Charlotte and Wisconsin are better than their reps, but not good enough. Michigan State isn't as good as Paul Davis et al should be. They'll trip early.
Who's left? Kansas. My pick to win it all a month ago. A competitive team without Wayne Simien, and a top team with him back. Or so I thought. Turns out the team needs now-gimpy Keith Langford to shoot well (hit or miss) and 35 plus minutes from PG Aaron Miles. As a first or second #1 seed, the Jayhawks might very well have gotten what they needed after coasting a round or two. I just see that not happening.
So, here I am, a week before the festivities start, wondering who to take fourth rather than fifth and hoping the injury bug leaves 'my' teams alone.
Today, what I know is that I don't know who to pick to complete my final four with North Carolina, Illinois and UConn. Will it be Gonzaga or Louisville? I think the TarHeels will beat Illinois in a low-scoring final, but I like Charlie Villanueva to get UConn close and I have to choose between Rony Turiaf of Gonzaga and Francisco Garcia of Louisville as this year's Travis Diener. Rick Pitino makes Garcia the pick, draw permitting of course.
Wake Forest? Chris Paul is outta control and will get distracted at a key moment. So many good guards out there means John Lucas will get shut down before Oklahoma State runs the whole race. Duke's short bench means any tightly-officiated game is deadly to my favourite team's chances. Boston College, Syracuse and Pitt all have flaws, although BC's hidden theirs longer.
Kentucky loses with one sub-par Patrick Sparks game. Florida, Alabama and LSU are heartbreakers for their fans. Arizona and Washington will eventually come up against defenders capable of stopping Salim Stoudamire and Nate Robinson respectively. And Utah feels like a cozy pick until you look at the litany of teams they have beaten, and don't recognize anybody other than LSU. Pacific is the terror that wins two and celebrates a good year. Charlotte and Wisconsin are better than their reps, but not good enough. Michigan State isn't as good as Paul Davis et al should be. They'll trip early.
Who's left? Kansas. My pick to win it all a month ago. A competitive team without Wayne Simien, and a top team with him back. Or so I thought. Turns out the team needs now-gimpy Keith Langford to shoot well (hit or miss) and 35 plus minutes from PG Aaron Miles. As a first or second #1 seed, the Jayhawks might very well have gotten what they needed after coasting a round or two. I just see that not happening.
So, here I am, a week before the festivities start, wondering who to take fourth rather than fifth and hoping the injury bug leaves 'my' teams alone.
Tuesday, March 08, 2005
SPORTS: A Cheeky Treasure
In between dental procedures, I've finally found time to listen to some radio and get back here to record a few thoughts.
Saturday was a programming day with the usual cacaphony of sounds and images playing around me as I tried to get a handle on product reduction for this project I am working on. The TV was showing CBS's triple-header of what turned out to be great college basketball games. But I wasn't paying too much attention, since I was anticipating a big Illinois win over Ohio State. Not much to my credit there.
No, the main source of distraction was the Toronto Blue Jays' game on the radio. And, much to my happy surprise, the voice I heard was Tom Cheek's. The timbre and sound of his voice has been more than the occasional companion for more than half my life. His consecutive game streak came to an end last year as he lost his father and then his good health in one horrible fortnight. But until then, the tall, ex-Vermonter had been a constant for every game the Jays played until then. Every game, save some Spring Training exercises in exercise. He was a man who's style and grace made comparisons to Vin Scully legitimate. For that, he should have won the Ford Frick Award and entry to the Baseball Hall of Fame. With apologies to Jerry Coleman, a fine man and announcer, I believe Cheek should have won the award.
I say all of this so that folks out there make sure to catch Tom Cheek this season in the home broadcasts that he has signed up for. His continuing treatment for a brain tumour have me worried that the end of career is nigh. He had a rough time Saturday, but that could just be a case of getting out the winter rust. But even at a sub-par level, Tom Cheek made me feel like it was warm and sunny out and the Jays were once again the coming sign of summer.
A couple of innings in, I noticed the supposed to be one-sided basketball game wasn't. The programming was put aside and I wandered over to the lounge where the radio is set up near my left ear and the tv's straight ahead. I'm a basketball junkie, so I could have been pardoned if I shut the radio off. It was, afterall, a meaningless game. But I didn't. I kept the TV sound down low and let the sounds of coming summer cast their spell over me.
I didn't want to miss one more Cheeky performance. Make sure you don't pass up the opportunity to turn in every now and then to Blue Jay home games this summer. Mute the TV sound and let Tom and Jerry (Howarth) remind you of when you were younger, a lot younger, and loved pro sports a whole lot more than you do today.
Appreciate Tom Cheek while we still have him.
Saturday was a programming day with the usual cacaphony of sounds and images playing around me as I tried to get a handle on product reduction for this project I am working on. The TV was showing CBS's triple-header of what turned out to be great college basketball games. But I wasn't paying too much attention, since I was anticipating a big Illinois win over Ohio State. Not much to my credit there.
No, the main source of distraction was the Toronto Blue Jays' game on the radio. And, much to my happy surprise, the voice I heard was Tom Cheek's. The timbre and sound of his voice has been more than the occasional companion for more than half my life. His consecutive game streak came to an end last year as he lost his father and then his good health in one horrible fortnight. But until then, the tall, ex-Vermonter had been a constant for every game the Jays played until then. Every game, save some Spring Training exercises in exercise. He was a man who's style and grace made comparisons to Vin Scully legitimate. For that, he should have won the Ford Frick Award and entry to the Baseball Hall of Fame. With apologies to Jerry Coleman, a fine man and announcer, I believe Cheek should have won the award.
I say all of this so that folks out there make sure to catch Tom Cheek this season in the home broadcasts that he has signed up for. His continuing treatment for a brain tumour have me worried that the end of career is nigh. He had a rough time Saturday, but that could just be a case of getting out the winter rust. But even at a sub-par level, Tom Cheek made me feel like it was warm and sunny out and the Jays were once again the coming sign of summer.
A couple of innings in, I noticed the supposed to be one-sided basketball game wasn't. The programming was put aside and I wandered over to the lounge where the radio is set up near my left ear and the tv's straight ahead. I'm a basketball junkie, so I could have been pardoned if I shut the radio off. It was, afterall, a meaningless game. But I didn't. I kept the TV sound down low and let the sounds of coming summer cast their spell over me.
I didn't want to miss one more Cheeky performance. Make sure you don't pass up the opportunity to turn in every now and then to Blue Jay home games this summer. Mute the TV sound and let Tom and Jerry (Howarth) remind you of when you were younger, a lot younger, and loved pro sports a whole lot more than you do today.
Appreciate Tom Cheek while we still have him.
Thursday, February 17, 2005
SPORTS: RIP NHL 2004-05? or FOREVER?
On December 15, 2004, I wrote what follows below. I consigned the season to posterity at that point and NOTHING changed in the two months since. Yes, the players proved a moral stance meant nothing to the leadership. Yes, the owners finally figured out that you can delete the word linkage, and then call for a cap low enough that it should withstand most if not all of any shortfall the economically-challenged NHL would experience. But, ultimately, the owners made silly mistake after silly mistake and that allowed the bozos in the player's association to back taking nothing of a $49M cap rather than all of a $42M cap. A plague on both their houses.
The season is over and stupidity reigns.
Just reading archives here will tell you who I hold responsible. I still can't believe bleating sheep who repeat the "Free Market" mantra over and over again. Sports Leagues don't operate like other businesses since they don't strive for a monopoly and to drive competitors out of business. They can't, since competition (and seemingly legit competition, at that) is required to sell tickets.
The union won't accept a cap in the same way fat kids eat themselves into an early death because loving parents putting heaping platters of food in front of them and perish the thought of not eating it all. (One of the few changes in the reality in two months)
Unions in the real world negotiate contracts for ALL of their members, not just perqs and minimums and let the members get whatever they can. The real world unions get a percentage of the money that's out there and aportion it accordingly. The only people the NHL union wants restricted and capped are the members not yet in good standing ... the rookies. The union has no problem with a salary cap for SOME members.
How does the old joke go? "Will you sleep with me for a million dollars. YES!! Will you sleep with me for a buck? WHAT DO YOU THINK I AM?!? We've established what you are, we are just haggling over the price." The union just has to decide who and how much cap they are willing to accept.
Did the agreement work the last two years? OF COURSE it did. There was a looming work stoppage. The owners didn't want money spent that wasn't going to be productive. Will the same system work with a six-year contract in place? OF COURSE it won't!! The good behaviour of the past two years was enforced, just as a capped system would enforce it in the future.
The Toronto Maple Leafs have budgeted $60 million for this season. Reduce the payroll by a quarter and the Leafs don't respond by lowering ticket prices and being happy to make even more money than usual. The Leaf management asks themselves who they can get with the $15 million they now have to spend. Jarome Iginla? He goes from being a $7-8 million player, probably with Calgary, to a $12-15 million dollar a year bidding prize between Toronto, Detroit and Philly. They had the money already spoken for, why not spend it? Say good-bye to that 24 per cent cut likety split.
I participate in the Sporting News' Basketball Roto Leagues. I drafted well initially and have used my transactions fairly well to be competitive. I am placed third in one of the leagues with absolutely NO chance of winning. I have limited financial resources. I can spend a certain amount on transactions. The two teams ahead of me have outspent me, at this point in the season, by almost 80-1. They both change their rosters completely every day to ensure they have six active players every night. That's almost fifty transactions a week. I average less than two. It's all I can afford. I am not embarassed by that fact. Thus, I participate out of intellectual curiosity, rather than emotional fervor. I can't win and won't spend money to prove that point.
The NHL allegory is that a New York contract can't be held in comparison to a contract in Minnesota or Calgary. Arbitration allows OTHER teams in far-off places to dictate a team's payroll. Arbitration is unnecessary. If the player doesn't have a contract, let him negotiate one. Until a contract is agreed to, the player doesn't play. Why does the union bleat 'free market,' then make arbitration a motherhood and country issue where somebody not affiliated with a team tells them how much they have to pay for a player?
Most assuredly, the NHL is often run like a circus. Idiots abound. Mistakes of the most basic kind occur. Gary Bettman is not a stupid man. But why not make the management offer come out to 56.6 per cent of revenues. rather than 54? Why not give the union EXACTLY what it asked for, rather than suggest the debate should be what mid-point between the two figures can be the agreement point? And, the dolt that released the memo on Monday is on a par with the dunce in Atlanta that talked about replacement players.
Which brings me to the summation. NHL Owners are well-to-do for a number of reasons. Some earned their money. Some inherited. Some piggy-backed on others' great ideas to build up a bank account good enough to afford an NHL franchise. Expertise in one area does NOT make you an expert in another. It probably helps, but offers no guarantee. The different levels of 'intelligence' and the different agendas (some owners are out to win, regardless of profitability) means the owners DO have to be protected from themselves. They DON'T work for each other, but NEED each other. But in a competitive world, it's easy to overlook the common good and make the one transaction that serves as a dam breaker.
For the good of the sport, the NHL Union must accept a cap, negotiating as good a cap as it can get. To do elsewise means changing the title from R.I.P. NHL 2004-05 to R.I.P. NHL.
And now we know. RIP NHL.
The season is over and stupidity reigns.
Just reading archives here will tell you who I hold responsible. I still can't believe bleating sheep who repeat the "Free Market" mantra over and over again. Sports Leagues don't operate like other businesses since they don't strive for a monopoly and to drive competitors out of business. They can't, since competition (and seemingly legit competition, at that) is required to sell tickets.
The union won't accept a cap in the same way fat kids eat themselves into an early death because loving parents putting heaping platters of food in front of them and perish the thought of not eating it all. (One of the few changes in the reality in two months)
Unions in the real world negotiate contracts for ALL of their members, not just perqs and minimums and let the members get whatever they can. The real world unions get a percentage of the money that's out there and aportion it accordingly. The only people the NHL union wants restricted and capped are the members not yet in good standing ... the rookies. The union has no problem with a salary cap for SOME members.
How does the old joke go? "Will you sleep with me for a million dollars. YES!! Will you sleep with me for a buck? WHAT DO YOU THINK I AM?!? We've established what you are, we are just haggling over the price." The union just has to decide who and how much cap they are willing to accept.
Did the agreement work the last two years? OF COURSE it did. There was a looming work stoppage. The owners didn't want money spent that wasn't going to be productive. Will the same system work with a six-year contract in place? OF COURSE it won't!! The good behaviour of the past two years was enforced, just as a capped system would enforce it in the future.
The Toronto Maple Leafs have budgeted $60 million for this season. Reduce the payroll by a quarter and the Leafs don't respond by lowering ticket prices and being happy to make even more money than usual. The Leaf management asks themselves who they can get with the $15 million they now have to spend. Jarome Iginla? He goes from being a $7-8 million player, probably with Calgary, to a $12-15 million dollar a year bidding prize between Toronto, Detroit and Philly. They had the money already spoken for, why not spend it? Say good-bye to that 24 per cent cut likety split.
I participate in the Sporting News' Basketball Roto Leagues. I drafted well initially and have used my transactions fairly well to be competitive. I am placed third in one of the leagues with absolutely NO chance of winning. I have limited financial resources. I can spend a certain amount on transactions. The two teams ahead of me have outspent me, at this point in the season, by almost 80-1. They both change their rosters completely every day to ensure they have six active players every night. That's almost fifty transactions a week. I average less than two. It's all I can afford. I am not embarassed by that fact. Thus, I participate out of intellectual curiosity, rather than emotional fervor. I can't win and won't spend money to prove that point.
The NHL allegory is that a New York contract can't be held in comparison to a contract in Minnesota or Calgary. Arbitration allows OTHER teams in far-off places to dictate a team's payroll. Arbitration is unnecessary. If the player doesn't have a contract, let him negotiate one. Until a contract is agreed to, the player doesn't play. Why does the union bleat 'free market,' then make arbitration a motherhood and country issue where somebody not affiliated with a team tells them how much they have to pay for a player?
Most assuredly, the NHL is often run like a circus. Idiots abound. Mistakes of the most basic kind occur. Gary Bettman is not a stupid man. But why not make the management offer come out to 56.6 per cent of revenues. rather than 54? Why not give the union EXACTLY what it asked for, rather than suggest the debate should be what mid-point between the two figures can be the agreement point? And, the dolt that released the memo on Monday is on a par with the dunce in Atlanta that talked about replacement players.
Which brings me to the summation. NHL Owners are well-to-do for a number of reasons. Some earned their money. Some inherited. Some piggy-backed on others' great ideas to build up a bank account good enough to afford an NHL franchise. Expertise in one area does NOT make you an expert in another. It probably helps, but offers no guarantee. The different levels of 'intelligence' and the different agendas (some owners are out to win, regardless of profitability) means the owners DO have to be protected from themselves. They DON'T work for each other, but NEED each other. But in a competitive world, it's easy to overlook the common good and make the one transaction that serves as a dam breaker.
For the good of the sport, the NHL Union must accept a cap, negotiating as good a cap as it can get. To do elsewise means changing the title from R.I.P. NHL 2004-05 to R.I.P. NHL.
And now we know. RIP NHL.
Wednesday, November 10, 2004
SPORTS: Raptors titilate
For the first time this year, the fourth quarter of a Raptor game has provided me with enough dead air to do other things. Tonight, the Toronto Raptors got rolled by the Sacramento Kings, a winless congregation with twice the talent. And the result was a perfectly predictable result. The last two years, Toronto couldn't keep within 30 of the Kings on their court.
Still, the Raptors have turned in three entertaining, full game efforts at the House Vince Carter Constructed. Each game has featured an energetic second unit that has made the 40-minute starter game a distant thought. The backup quintet for the Raptors of Donyell Marshall, Morris Peterson, Milt Palacio, Lamond Murray and usually Matt Bonner has been a revelation. There's scoring from all five spots, continued Point Guard energy from Palacio and a surprisingly effective rebounding duo in Marshall and Bonner. Until the Kings' beheading, the second team had been the difference in each game. Even in a night Sacramento dominated the second quarter was a saw-off, largely due to the efforts of the non-starters.
The difference, as was almost true Sunday against Portland, was the lack of game from Chris Bosh and Loren Woods. The Raptor front-court had been the difference-maker in season-starting wins over Houston and Detroit. Bosh will return to form soon. He's got too good of a game. But Woods is a hit or miss player with few hits on his resume. Still, if he can keep Marshall in a backup role and Bosh out of the middle, even a pointless, 10 board performance makes him a worthwhile starter. Still, a few games closer to the double-double he turned in against the Pistons would go a LOOOOONG way towards making the Raptors a competitive team.
Toronto is just starting a six-game, nine day trip through the wild, wild west. A couple of wins would give the Raptors a winning record upon the return to the now freezing Great White North and would be a shock to most pundits. The same pundits who had trouble deciding between predicting a 1-8 or 2-7 start to the season. This team can be a decent squad. It will take a 10-man effort most nights, but coach Sam Mitchell has shown early that he's got just that plan in mind. The Woods situation is the key. If he, or Jerome Moiso (or some combination of both) could be an 8 and 10 player, the Raptors might just have the material to surprise folks.
On the other hand, one Carter injury and the delicate balance built up early will crumble. Should be entertaining watching regardless.
Still, the Raptors have turned in three entertaining, full game efforts at the House Vince Carter Constructed. Each game has featured an energetic second unit that has made the 40-minute starter game a distant thought. The backup quintet for the Raptors of Donyell Marshall, Morris Peterson, Milt Palacio, Lamond Murray and usually Matt Bonner has been a revelation. There's scoring from all five spots, continued Point Guard energy from Palacio and a surprisingly effective rebounding duo in Marshall and Bonner. Until the Kings' beheading, the second team had been the difference in each game. Even in a night Sacramento dominated the second quarter was a saw-off, largely due to the efforts of the non-starters.
The difference, as was almost true Sunday against Portland, was the lack of game from Chris Bosh and Loren Woods. The Raptor front-court had been the difference-maker in season-starting wins over Houston and Detroit. Bosh will return to form soon. He's got too good of a game. But Woods is a hit or miss player with few hits on his resume. Still, if he can keep Marshall in a backup role and Bosh out of the middle, even a pointless, 10 board performance makes him a worthwhile starter. Still, a few games closer to the double-double he turned in against the Pistons would go a LOOOOONG way towards making the Raptors a competitive team.
Toronto is just starting a six-game, nine day trip through the wild, wild west. A couple of wins would give the Raptors a winning record upon the return to the now freezing Great White North and would be a shock to most pundits. The same pundits who had trouble deciding between predicting a 1-8 or 2-7 start to the season. This team can be a decent squad. It will take a 10-man effort most nights, but coach Sam Mitchell has shown early that he's got just that plan in mind. The Woods situation is the key. If he, or Jerome Moiso (or some combination of both) could be an 8 and 10 player, the Raptors might just have the material to surprise folks.
On the other hand, one Carter injury and the delicate balance built up early will crumble. Should be entertaining watching regardless.
TV: Premiere WindUp
While work commitments have intruded, I have had a chance to catch more of the debut shows for new shows this fall. And hallelujah, there is some good stuff worth watching.
Best of the shows I've seen thus far has been Lost. But a close second is UPN's Veronica Mars, starring Kristen Bell as the cute and sassy social outcast daughter of sheriff-turned-PI Enrico Colantoni. Veronica was formerly belle of the ball before her father tried to down the town's leading light for murdering his daughter, Veronica's best friend, Lilly. Money won out and Veronica was soon on the outs with the elite set. That gave her time to become a present-day Nancy Drew. The stories are entertaining and Bell, who reminds me of a spunky geologist I know, is a break-out star.
I wish I was about a generation younger. I'd lust after Veronica Mars but understand life as we know it's cast of characters more. It's all youthful hormones, including the hoary "student's hot for teacher" cliche. And, like Dawson's Creek, said student gets his heart desire. Enough already. But this show is worth watching for one thing, Kelly Osbourne. She's comfortable in her skin and sassy (there's that word again) and a revelation. e.e. cummings' affectations aside, I do think you have to be a certain age for this show not to come off as a waste of time.
The series you HAVE heard about, Desperate Housewives, has a through-line that reminds me of Veronica's "Who Killed Lilly" thread, while populating a street right out of Knots Landing with Twin Peaks wannabes. I can watch Terri Hatcher and Eva Langoria for a long time, but I'm put out with many of the other characters, including Nicolette Sheridan. Say, wasn't she in Knots Landing? Yep, still the man-killer. I know folks have jumped on this show as an ode to the better half, but I have to think this show only goes so far. Flavour of the month feeling. It will fade as soon as Hatcher has her Sam And Diane moment with affable Mike, played by Jamie Denton ... who might not be as friendly as he appears.
Flip the channel. Do it again. Surely, by this time, you've passed some channel showing a poker tournament. Celebrity Poker takes all the game out of Poker and injects it with some truly inane conversation between Hollywood's C List of actors. Fold.
The names and the talent that populate The Centre of the Universe should make for a good show. But when you spend the big bucks for the likes of John Goodman, Jean Smart and Ed Asner, you might be a little tight in the writing budget. Sure shows. Yet another Goodman show that shows he can't front a sitcom. A great character actor, but he needs a bigger light to take the spotlight away.
Well, that's the end of debut season. Time to take a second look at second episodes since I last wrote about the shows. Next entry, promise. And it won't be a month from now, promise.
Best of the shows I've seen thus far has been Lost. But a close second is UPN's Veronica Mars, starring Kristen Bell as the cute and sassy social outcast daughter of sheriff-turned-PI Enrico Colantoni. Veronica was formerly belle of the ball before her father tried to down the town's leading light for murdering his daughter, Veronica's best friend, Lilly. Money won out and Veronica was soon on the outs with the elite set. That gave her time to become a present-day Nancy Drew. The stories are entertaining and Bell, who reminds me of a spunky geologist I know, is a break-out star.
I wish I was about a generation younger. I'd lust after Veronica Mars but understand life as we know it's cast of characters more. It's all youthful hormones, including the hoary "student's hot for teacher" cliche. And, like Dawson's Creek, said student gets his heart desire. Enough already. But this show is worth watching for one thing, Kelly Osbourne. She's comfortable in her skin and sassy (there's that word again) and a revelation. e.e. cummings' affectations aside, I do think you have to be a certain age for this show not to come off as a waste of time.
The series you HAVE heard about, Desperate Housewives, has a through-line that reminds me of Veronica's "Who Killed Lilly" thread, while populating a street right out of Knots Landing with Twin Peaks wannabes. I can watch Terri Hatcher and Eva Langoria for a long time, but I'm put out with many of the other characters, including Nicolette Sheridan. Say, wasn't she in Knots Landing? Yep, still the man-killer. I know folks have jumped on this show as an ode to the better half, but I have to think this show only goes so far. Flavour of the month feeling. It will fade as soon as Hatcher has her Sam And Diane moment with affable Mike, played by Jamie Denton ... who might not be as friendly as he appears.
Flip the channel. Do it again. Surely, by this time, you've passed some channel showing a poker tournament. Celebrity Poker takes all the game out of Poker and injects it with some truly inane conversation between Hollywood's C List of actors. Fold.
The names and the talent that populate The Centre of the Universe should make for a good show. But when you spend the big bucks for the likes of John Goodman, Jean Smart and Ed Asner, you might be a little tight in the writing budget. Sure shows. Yet another Goodman show that shows he can't front a sitcom. A great character actor, but he needs a bigger light to take the spotlight away.
Well, that's the end of debut season. Time to take a second look at second episodes since I last wrote about the shows. Next entry, promise. And it won't be a month from now, promise.
Monday, October 11, 2004
TV: A Keeper, A Sleeper and A Sweeper
The videotapes presented three more new shows for first viewing and the results are mixed. One, Boston Legal, is a keeper. CIS New York is a sleeper with a chance to match the success it's going to get no matter what I write here. And the third? Complete Savages. Complete Review? Yuck.
Boston Legal, is of course, the phoenix that has arisen from the ashes of David Kelley's The Practice. It actually debuted last year as the final few weeks of The Practice. But a change or two amongst the carryover characters and the addition of a couple of new ones gives this show the chance to proclaim newness.
There's lots to like including carryover James Spader's Alan Shore, a lawyer with a self-aware lack of ethics and more than a hint of a heart of gold. You WANT to cheer for him, but he's just a little too smirky to get completely behind. Rhona Mitra and Lake Bell are associate lawyers drawn like moths to his flame and that is a good thing as far as I'm concerned. Monica Potter has jumped over from the sadly-missing (but still undead) Tru Calling to replace Rebecca DeMornay as the witch of the law firm. I like looking at Potter more, but DeMornay was VERY, VERY good in the part last year. Truly hateable. The other returnee from last year is William Shatner as the over-the-top Denny Crane. He's losing it, knows it, and has decided to enjoy the ride. Denny Crane, too.
The most welcome addition to the crew playing all new is Mark Valley's lawyer take on his Keen Eddie character, Detective Eddie Arlette. He and Spader bump heads immediately. Good Stuff.
Kelley normally gets two good years out of each show. This looks like a something to savour for at least that long.
CIS New York is the third in the icky innards franchise and there's a distinct lack of humour in the show thus far, even when the B Plot centres on a rat-opsy. And that's what worries me. Bill Peterson's humour is what drove CIS, the original, to its position atop the ratings. It was drier that the Las Vegas air, but it was there. Death requires humour to be palatable.
When the Miami branch of the show debuted, you'd get more than the odd shot of its lead David Caruso, smiling at least. And given the presence of Emily Procter and Sofia Milos, that was enough to buy the time to watch the show. Which brings up the coast to New York and the supposed coup of casting Gary Sinise. His character, Mack Taylor, is supposed to have the depth of Peterson's Gil Grissom and Caruso's Horatio Caine, but other than a religious fervosity, he just seems grim. As do the rest, spear-headed by Melina Kanakaredes, NY's doppleganger of Milos' Yelena Salas, hair and all.
If NY can lighten up, then it's worth watching, regardless of the lemming race to watch anything with CSI in it's title. If not, it will prove their IS a finite limite to just how much tissue damage a human brain can take (watching).
Boston Legal, is of course, the phoenix that has arisen from the ashes of David Kelley's The Practice. It actually debuted last year as the final few weeks of The Practice. But a change or two amongst the carryover characters and the addition of a couple of new ones gives this show the chance to proclaim newness.
There's lots to like including carryover James Spader's Alan Shore, a lawyer with a self-aware lack of ethics and more than a hint of a heart of gold. You WANT to cheer for him, but he's just a little too smirky to get completely behind. Rhona Mitra and Lake Bell are associate lawyers drawn like moths to his flame and that is a good thing as far as I'm concerned. Monica Potter has jumped over from the sadly-missing (but still undead) Tru Calling to replace Rebecca DeMornay as the witch of the law firm. I like looking at Potter more, but DeMornay was VERY, VERY good in the part last year. Truly hateable. The other returnee from last year is William Shatner as the over-the-top Denny Crane. He's losing it, knows it, and has decided to enjoy the ride. Denny Crane, too.
The most welcome addition to the crew playing all new is Mark Valley's lawyer take on his Keen Eddie character, Detective Eddie Arlette. He and Spader bump heads immediately. Good Stuff.
Kelley normally gets two good years out of each show. This looks like a something to savour for at least that long.
CIS New York is the third in the icky innards franchise and there's a distinct lack of humour in the show thus far, even when the B Plot centres on a rat-opsy. And that's what worries me. Bill Peterson's humour is what drove CIS, the original, to its position atop the ratings. It was drier that the Las Vegas air, but it was there. Death requires humour to be palatable.
When the Miami branch of the show debuted, you'd get more than the odd shot of its lead David Caruso, smiling at least. And given the presence of Emily Procter and Sofia Milos, that was enough to buy the time to watch the show. Which brings up the coast to New York and the supposed coup of casting Gary Sinise. His character, Mack Taylor, is supposed to have the depth of Peterson's Gil Grissom and Caruso's Horatio Caine, but other than a religious fervosity, he just seems grim. As do the rest, spear-headed by Melina Kanakaredes, NY's doppleganger of Milos' Yelena Salas, hair and all.
If NY can lighten up, then it's worth watching, regardless of the lemming race to watch anything with CSI in it's title. If not, it will prove their IS a finite limite to just how much tissue damage a human brain can take (watching).
Sunday, October 10, 2004
SPORTS: A rose by any other name ...
Say it with me .. The American League Divisional Championship Series. Just trips off the tongue doesn't it? Euccchhh. To be followed by the American League Championship Series, the ALCS, cuz the real name stinks.
The problem is 'Championship.' It COMPLETELY misrepresents the first round and only slightly is more meaningful after that.
Now, let's try ... The American League Pennant Semi-Finals. Then the American League Pennant Series. Now THAT sounds better, doesn't it? Leads right into the World Series.
The problem is 'Championship.' It COMPLETELY misrepresents the first round and only slightly is more meaningful after that.
Now, let's try ... The American League Pennant Semi-Finals. Then the American League Pennant Series. Now THAT sounds better, doesn't it? Leads right into the World Series.
Sunday, October 03, 2004
TV: Calling dr vegas ...
Well, this was a week of work and not much passed by on videotape that I hadn't seen before. The exception was dr. vegas, Rob Lowe's latest attempt to prove what a good supporting character he can be. Too much screen time is NOT good for Lowe and he gets WAAAY too much time as the lead in this latest Las Vegas-set TV hour.
Lowe's Dr. Grant, Billy to all of his friends, is flawed, but good-hearted. Need to read any more? Laurence Olivier couldn't make this role sufferable. And that sinks the show. I know Joe Pantaliano is over the top as the casino owner, but I forgive Joey Pants just about anything. He's watchable. Tom Sizemore is intriguing as a casino host. Amy Adams is presentable as the other doctor in Grant's office at the Casino. And Sarah Lancaster, the lust-object last year in Everwood, surfaces here as the dealer with the heart of gold. Oops, there's that good gold-hearted description again. Arrrrgghh!!!
Watching Lancaster beam only goes so far. Eventually, Lowe's mug comes front and centre and stays too long. Thankfully, dr. vegas won't be staying all that long.
Maybe Lowe can get his old West Wing role back after proving the Peter Principle is still alive and kicking.
Lowe's Dr. Grant, Billy to all of his friends, is flawed, but good-hearted. Need to read any more? Laurence Olivier couldn't make this role sufferable. And that sinks the show. I know Joe Pantaliano is over the top as the casino owner, but I forgive Joey Pants just about anything. He's watchable. Tom Sizemore is intriguing as a casino host. Amy Adams is presentable as the other doctor in Grant's office at the Casino. And Sarah Lancaster, the lust-object last year in Everwood, surfaces here as the dealer with the heart of gold. Oops, there's that good gold-hearted description again. Arrrrgghh!!!
Watching Lancaster beam only goes so far. Eventually, Lowe's mug comes front and centre and stays too long. Thankfully, dr. vegas won't be staying all that long.
Maybe Lowe can get his old West Wing role back after proving the Peter Principle is still alive and kicking.
POLITICS: My Kerry Speech
As a Canadian, I watch the American presidential debates with a growing sense that our neighbours to the South are getting ready to make the most important vote ever held when it comes to Canadian interests.
It has been billed as the vote for the better war-time president. The candidate best able to extract the USA from the Iraq quagmire. And some people believe that. I don't. Nobody is getting out of Iraq easily or in the near future. What this vote is for is how readily America will enter its next war.
As such, the world trembles at the thought of another Bush term. Failing by virtually any other measurement, Bush can only rule by continuing fear-mongering. And it's a sad fact that effective fear-mongering requires the odd war to keep the bogeymen as threat to the mental peace of the citizenry.
Politicians lie. They lie to themselves. They lie to us. I hope those lies have a bit of non-self interest to them. In light of my expectations of fudging on the part of all politicians, the shenanigans of 30 years ago hold no interest to me. Based on what I believe is close to the truth, I would have admired the young Kerry and pilloried the party-boy Bush at the time, had I known them. But they've changed since then and neither one is to be measured completely on the youth-time exploits. The fine shadings of words taken out of context three decades later? Not interested.
If that takes the only peg leg out from under Kerry, so be it. But he is MORE than that, despite his campaign's unflagging dependence on his military exploits. Too bad they don't point more to his socially-conscious record and true international statesmanship. That said, the same mistake about Kerry is being made by Karl Rove and his cabal of Bush and Dick Cheney supporters.
Flip-flopper. Wilting in the face of the enemy. French flunkie. Repeat ad nauseum, only variating the commentary by using euphemisms.
So, if I may, let me write the speech I wish John Kerry had given early and often.
Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, children and any pets that might have made their way here to this event. My name is John Kerry and I am running for the Presidency of the United States of America.
I have ideas I think you will be interested in, for making America as great as it can be. I plan to stop expatriating jobs overseas to save a few bucks, only to see service diminish and dispirited ex-employees look vainly for new work. I will stop kowtowing to big drug, chemical and oil companies who are making profits at the expense of lowering the standards of living for all of you. I say all of you, because you can be sure that the fat cats enriched by the current administration have no time to stand out there listening to what I've got to say. I've got more to tell you, but let me take a few minutes to comment on the one thing that seems to be dominating the news.
My opponent, the President of the United States, has no plans to make your life better. His only plan, the one plan he has used to maintain power, is to keep you fearful. He and his Attorney General John Ashcroft, have imported the Singapore governing model intact. By chipping away at the very core of the values that make America great, he has moved us too closely to a Police state. He has used the criminal actions of 19 terrorists, 16 of them Saudis, none of them Iraqis, to curtail the personal freedoms that separate America from the rest of the world. He has waged legitimate war in Afghanistan to attack the safe harbour of those terrorits. But on the cusp of victory over terror, he invaded a country that had nothing to do with September 11th. None. And no broadly-hinted collusion charges changes that fact. He invaded a country with NO weapons of mass destruction. He invaded a country with no ability to harm American interests save for paying the families of suicide bombers in Israel. An odious practice, for sure, but does it raise the bar to the level of invasion? We had more cause to invade Saudi Arabia than Iraq.
A vote was taken before we went to war with Iraq. The Congress was asked to vote in favour of giving the President the option of going to war. We were giving information by the President that made it obvious that this option had to be made available to our Commander-in-Chief. I take the President at his word that the information we were given was the same information he had. All of it. Had we suspected at the time that the information was as error-filled as it was, as idealogically-biased as it has proven to be, as bereft of opposing points of view as were out there in large number at the time, we would not have voted for the option of war to be made available to the President.
The OPTION of war. An option to be used as a last resort. And, within weeks, without the exhausting of all political alternatives, the President gave up the focused war on terror in Afghanistan and sent the troops to Baghdad. Thousands injured. More than a thousand American men and women killed. Uncounted Iraqis dead and injured. That might not be a story here in this country where the name of every combatant killed in Vietnam is engraved in granite in Washington and the names of every lost soul in New York is read each anniversary of September 11th. I mourn for the soldiers we have lost in this needless conflict. And I mourn for the innocent lives lost in Iraq too. I wish I was confident everybody in this political arena did too.
I later voted, on first reading, against the expenditure of 85 billion dollars in Iraq. This vote was a protest against this war and its obscene profits for certain companies, and I said so at the time. I later voted for a measure that featured less pay-offs for friends of the Vice-President's former firms, and put more of that huge sum of money directly in the theatre of combat. A sum that we were later to find is one-half to one-third of the money we will be shipping to Iraq rather than spending it here at home.
These two votes are the complete focus of my opponent's campaign to be elected President of the United States of America. He has no plan to make your life better. He only wants you to fear the flip-flopper, a man he claims will wilt when faced with the most horrendous decision a President can face. War. And he claims I will bend to the will of the French and to the international community if ever faced with war. He wants you to be afraid of me.
But fear not, as you can see, I'm nothing to be afraid of. Yet, I HAVE killed. People have tried to kill me. I was wounded in action and returned to battle. I have ordered others to shoot at and presumably kill the enemy. And I have done so in a split second. In battle, you have to make those decisions. In statesmanship, you have more time to gather information, listen to all points of view, and proceed with calm determination that what you are doing is right for America.
Gathering all information, allowing dissent to be heard, allows you to learn something that permits you to change your mind. How often do we believe somebody is guilty of a crime before evidence of innocence is found? To forbid yourself the ability to change your mind is a character flaw I find unfathomable. If changing one's mind is flip-flopping, than I wear the label with pride. I assume the President does too. How else to explain his change in positions on the creation of the Department of Homeland Security or the creation of the bi-partisan September 11 Commission. His initial opposition was wrong and he changed his mind. Good for him.
I won't wilt under pressure. I won't cling to ideas and concepts proven wrong over time. And no amount of saying so by my opponents will ever make me put American self-sovereignity in the hands of non-Americans. Name-calling doesn't impress me much. I have too much hope for America to let that get to me. I hope you don't let it get to you either.
Now, back to what I plan to do to make YOUR life better ....
It has been billed as the vote for the better war-time president. The candidate best able to extract the USA from the Iraq quagmire. And some people believe that. I don't. Nobody is getting out of Iraq easily or in the near future. What this vote is for is how readily America will enter its next war.
As such, the world trembles at the thought of another Bush term. Failing by virtually any other measurement, Bush can only rule by continuing fear-mongering. And it's a sad fact that effective fear-mongering requires the odd war to keep the bogeymen as threat to the mental peace of the citizenry.
Politicians lie. They lie to themselves. They lie to us. I hope those lies have a bit of non-self interest to them. In light of my expectations of fudging on the part of all politicians, the shenanigans of 30 years ago hold no interest to me. Based on what I believe is close to the truth, I would have admired the young Kerry and pilloried the party-boy Bush at the time, had I known them. But they've changed since then and neither one is to be measured completely on the youth-time exploits. The fine shadings of words taken out of context three decades later? Not interested.
If that takes the only peg leg out from under Kerry, so be it. But he is MORE than that, despite his campaign's unflagging dependence on his military exploits. Too bad they don't point more to his socially-conscious record and true international statesmanship. That said, the same mistake about Kerry is being made by Karl Rove and his cabal of Bush and Dick Cheney supporters.
Flip-flopper. Wilting in the face of the enemy. French flunkie. Repeat ad nauseum, only variating the commentary by using euphemisms.
So, if I may, let me write the speech I wish John Kerry had given early and often.
Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, children and any pets that might have made their way here to this event. My name is John Kerry and I am running for the Presidency of the United States of America.
I have ideas I think you will be interested in, for making America as great as it can be. I plan to stop expatriating jobs overseas to save a few bucks, only to see service diminish and dispirited ex-employees look vainly for new work. I will stop kowtowing to big drug, chemical and oil companies who are making profits at the expense of lowering the standards of living for all of you. I say all of you, because you can be sure that the fat cats enriched by the current administration have no time to stand out there listening to what I've got to say. I've got more to tell you, but let me take a few minutes to comment on the one thing that seems to be dominating the news.
My opponent, the President of the United States, has no plans to make your life better. His only plan, the one plan he has used to maintain power, is to keep you fearful. He and his Attorney General John Ashcroft, have imported the Singapore governing model intact. By chipping away at the very core of the values that make America great, he has moved us too closely to a Police state. He has used the criminal actions of 19 terrorists, 16 of them Saudis, none of them Iraqis, to curtail the personal freedoms that separate America from the rest of the world. He has waged legitimate war in Afghanistan to attack the safe harbour of those terrorits. But on the cusp of victory over terror, he invaded a country that had nothing to do with September 11th. None. And no broadly-hinted collusion charges changes that fact. He invaded a country with NO weapons of mass destruction. He invaded a country with no ability to harm American interests save for paying the families of suicide bombers in Israel. An odious practice, for sure, but does it raise the bar to the level of invasion? We had more cause to invade Saudi Arabia than Iraq.
A vote was taken before we went to war with Iraq. The Congress was asked to vote in favour of giving the President the option of going to war. We were giving information by the President that made it obvious that this option had to be made available to our Commander-in-Chief. I take the President at his word that the information we were given was the same information he had. All of it. Had we suspected at the time that the information was as error-filled as it was, as idealogically-biased as it has proven to be, as bereft of opposing points of view as were out there in large number at the time, we would not have voted for the option of war to be made available to the President.
The OPTION of war. An option to be used as a last resort. And, within weeks, without the exhausting of all political alternatives, the President gave up the focused war on terror in Afghanistan and sent the troops to Baghdad. Thousands injured. More than a thousand American men and women killed. Uncounted Iraqis dead and injured. That might not be a story here in this country where the name of every combatant killed in Vietnam is engraved in granite in Washington and the names of every lost soul in New York is read each anniversary of September 11th. I mourn for the soldiers we have lost in this needless conflict. And I mourn for the innocent lives lost in Iraq too. I wish I was confident everybody in this political arena did too.
I later voted, on first reading, against the expenditure of 85 billion dollars in Iraq. This vote was a protest against this war and its obscene profits for certain companies, and I said so at the time. I later voted for a measure that featured less pay-offs for friends of the Vice-President's former firms, and put more of that huge sum of money directly in the theatre of combat. A sum that we were later to find is one-half to one-third of the money we will be shipping to Iraq rather than spending it here at home.
These two votes are the complete focus of my opponent's campaign to be elected President of the United States of America. He has no plan to make your life better. He only wants you to fear the flip-flopper, a man he claims will wilt when faced with the most horrendous decision a President can face. War. And he claims I will bend to the will of the French and to the international community if ever faced with war. He wants you to be afraid of me.
But fear not, as you can see, I'm nothing to be afraid of. Yet, I HAVE killed. People have tried to kill me. I was wounded in action and returned to battle. I have ordered others to shoot at and presumably kill the enemy. And I have done so in a split second. In battle, you have to make those decisions. In statesmanship, you have more time to gather information, listen to all points of view, and proceed with calm determination that what you are doing is right for America.
Gathering all information, allowing dissent to be heard, allows you to learn something that permits you to change your mind. How often do we believe somebody is guilty of a crime before evidence of innocence is found? To forbid yourself the ability to change your mind is a character flaw I find unfathomable. If changing one's mind is flip-flopping, than I wear the label with pride. I assume the President does too. How else to explain his change in positions on the creation of the Department of Homeland Security or the creation of the bi-partisan September 11 Commission. His initial opposition was wrong and he changed his mind. Good for him.
I won't wilt under pressure. I won't cling to ideas and concepts proven wrong over time. And no amount of saying so by my opponents will ever make me put American self-sovereignity in the hands of non-Americans. Name-calling doesn't impress me much. I have too much hope for America to let that get to me. I hope you don't let it get to you either.
Now, back to what I plan to do to make YOUR life better ....
Sunday, September 26, 2004
TV: Comedy and SF and Middling Reviews
If somebody set out to write a sitcom JUST for me, Listen Up might very well come close to being that comedy. In other words, it doesn't have a chance of success.
Actually, ten minutes into Jason Alexander's latest attempt to wipe out the Seinfeld Curse, I was sure I was witnessing the latest two/three episodes and out sitcom. Alexander epitomizes what's wrong with today's comedies. SHOUTERS as central characters fail. You can have the odd loudmouth in a supporting role. Three of them if your lead is as strong as our old friend Jerry. But the lead can't shout, if his name isn't Jackie Gleason.
But, before Listen Up had used up the allotted 30 minutes, I started to realize I LIKE everybody on this show. The kids are cute and waaaaay less bizarre then usual. I swear the girl, Daniella Monet, is a full-scale swipe of my neice's life. Wendy Makkena proves very likeable as the wife and Malcolm Jamaal-Warner has a sense of humour (Jeremiah aside) that was honed by Bill Cosby.
And short, pudgy scribes resonate here at this computer. I've got more hair than Alexander's take-off on famed sports hack Tony Kornheiser. But I AM LOUD, too much of the time, too.
The quiet moments make Listen Up worthy of your attention. If Alexander can respond to stress with humour rather than decibel levels, than this comedy can work. I hope it does. It gives guys like me hope for the future.
The second debut to make it to the top of my tape pile was Rodney. I've never heard of Rodney Carrington before. By Christmas, I won't remember him again. The show has no future. Rodney is likeable and his wife, Jennifer Aspen, has the Okie accent that I love and have missed on TV since the days of The Torkelsons. Good-looking too. But the kids are brats, the friends' circle barely better and there isn't much to pin hope on for the future.
Moving to SF, I caught Lost and The 4400 first episodes. Both had been reviewed better than I felt about them, but were good enough to warrant continued watching.
Lost features a cast of thousands ... well at least 48 PLUS the island itself ... and as such is tough to get a handle on. In fact, as I understand it, the pilot was 90 minutes and has been chopped into two episodes. That explains a feeling of incompleteness that permeates Lost. It's from the same folks as Alias, so this feeling of uncertainity promises to last the season. Charlie Fox's Jack is fine as the lead viewpoint character. Properly heroic with a touch of everyman, as he explains an earlier near-failure to foxy Kate, played by Evangeline Lilly. The hint is that the wayward flight has landed on a dinosaur-infested isle, but the late captain looked more chewed-on than chomped. (And the web is rife with denials by JJ Abrams that this is Jurassic Park redux) My one complaint based on the limited view is the treatment of Daniel Dae Kim and his wife. Racist or Survivor? Or both? Not sure I know at this point, but I don't like the potential answer.
My main worry? Amazon. That show had a plane crash with a disparate group of survivors. Lost without hope of succor. Tropical setting. Middling star list. And it didn't pan out.
The 4400 feels like a combination of PJ Farmer's Riverworld (books and movie) and JM Straczynski's comic book series, Rising Stars. The Riverworld-like beginnings are obvious: People snatched from various periods, all put together into one group and placed in a strange place (albeit that place is current-day Earth) and finally, the group is immediately segmented. The Rising Stars reference is the powers, probably unearthly-given powers, that the group exhibits. Oh yeah, and the group is treated like freaks even before they start proving it.
Both ancestors have good pedigrees and this mini-series shows promise. Some of the actors are effective, most are neither good nor bad. The best of the lot is the little girl seer Maia, played by Conchita Campbell. She plays the part calmly rather than "Woe is me, I see the future." A neat choice. The cat-and-dog Homeland Security team played by Joel Gretsch and Jacqueline McKenzie work, although neither is completely likeable. The 4400'ers you want most to see end up well are Lily and Richard, the inter-racial couple played by Laura Allen and Mahershalalhashbaz Ali. 'Cept Lily's pregnant and that's close to impossible, even give the impossible surrounding circumstances. Lily's ex-husband is a lout who was out of town during the time when 'it' happened. And how can the kid NOT be an IT at this point?
I will stick with Lost and The 4400, hope for Listen Up to smarten up and forego any further Rodney's.
Actually, ten minutes into Jason Alexander's latest attempt to wipe out the Seinfeld Curse, I was sure I was witnessing the latest two/three episodes and out sitcom. Alexander epitomizes what's wrong with today's comedies. SHOUTERS as central characters fail. You can have the odd loudmouth in a supporting role. Three of them if your lead is as strong as our old friend Jerry. But the lead can't shout, if his name isn't Jackie Gleason.
But, before Listen Up had used up the allotted 30 minutes, I started to realize I LIKE everybody on this show. The kids are cute and waaaaay less bizarre then usual. I swear the girl, Daniella Monet, is a full-scale swipe of my neice's life. Wendy Makkena proves very likeable as the wife and Malcolm Jamaal-Warner has a sense of humour (Jeremiah aside) that was honed by Bill Cosby.
And short, pudgy scribes resonate here at this computer. I've got more hair than Alexander's take-off on famed sports hack Tony Kornheiser. But I AM LOUD, too much of the time, too.
The quiet moments make Listen Up worthy of your attention. If Alexander can respond to stress with humour rather than decibel levels, than this comedy can work. I hope it does. It gives guys like me hope for the future.
The second debut to make it to the top of my tape pile was Rodney. I've never heard of Rodney Carrington before. By Christmas, I won't remember him again. The show has no future. Rodney is likeable and his wife, Jennifer Aspen, has the Okie accent that I love and have missed on TV since the days of The Torkelsons. Good-looking too. But the kids are brats, the friends' circle barely better and there isn't much to pin hope on for the future.
Moving to SF, I caught Lost and The 4400 first episodes. Both had been reviewed better than I felt about them, but were good enough to warrant continued watching.
Lost features a cast of thousands ... well at least 48 PLUS the island itself ... and as such is tough to get a handle on. In fact, as I understand it, the pilot was 90 minutes and has been chopped into two episodes. That explains a feeling of incompleteness that permeates Lost. It's from the same folks as Alias, so this feeling of uncertainity promises to last the season. Charlie Fox's Jack is fine as the lead viewpoint character. Properly heroic with a touch of everyman, as he explains an earlier near-failure to foxy Kate, played by Evangeline Lilly. The hint is that the wayward flight has landed on a dinosaur-infested isle, but the late captain looked more chewed-on than chomped. (And the web is rife with denials by JJ Abrams that this is Jurassic Park redux) My one complaint based on the limited view is the treatment of Daniel Dae Kim and his wife. Racist or Survivor? Or both? Not sure I know at this point, but I don't like the potential answer.
My main worry? Amazon. That show had a plane crash with a disparate group of survivors. Lost without hope of succor. Tropical setting. Middling star list. And it didn't pan out.
The 4400 feels like a combination of PJ Farmer's Riverworld (books and movie) and JM Straczynski's comic book series, Rising Stars. The Riverworld-like beginnings are obvious: People snatched from various periods, all put together into one group and placed in a strange place (albeit that place is current-day Earth) and finally, the group is immediately segmented. The Rising Stars reference is the powers, probably unearthly-given powers, that the group exhibits. Oh yeah, and the group is treated like freaks even before they start proving it.
Both ancestors have good pedigrees and this mini-series shows promise. Some of the actors are effective, most are neither good nor bad. The best of the lot is the little girl seer Maia, played by Conchita Campbell. She plays the part calmly rather than "Woe is me, I see the future." A neat choice. The cat-and-dog Homeland Security team played by Joel Gretsch and Jacqueline McKenzie work, although neither is completely likeable. The 4400'ers you want most to see end up well are Lily and Richard, the inter-racial couple played by Laura Allen and Mahershalalhashbaz Ali. 'Cept Lily's pregnant and that's close to impossible, even give the impossible surrounding circumstances. Lily's ex-husband is a lout who was out of town during the time when 'it' happened. And how can the kid NOT be an IT at this point?
I will stick with Lost and The 4400, hope for Listen Up to smarten up and forego any further Rodney's.
Monday, September 20, 2004
BOOKS: Jody L. Nye and The Taylor Medicine Show
Jody Nye is a favourite author of mine, usually in partnership with other authors. I first read her works in the Brawn and Brainship books co-authored by Anne McCaffrey. I put her works on my book list that I give out to the family for birthdays and Christmases and ended up with the second and third books in the series, Medicine Show and The Lady and The Tiger. I couldn't get the first book, Taylor's Ark, for ever so long. So the other books gathered dust on the reading pile.
Then, about a month ago, I happened upon Taylor's Ark at a book and software blowout store. What a happy happinstance.
Taylor's Ark proved to be a medical mystery thriller in outer space with a decided humanistic approach to its lead character, Dr. Shona Taylor. There's murder most foul in the book, a corporate baddie who is despicable, medical puzzles and a series of supporting animal characters to make Shona's life an abosolute joy to read about. Chief amongst the animals is a sentient cross between an otter and a turtle. I LOVE otters. I LOVED Chirwl, the ottle. He injected that little bit of humour that HAS to be part of any medical story about life and death.
Shona's husband, Gershom was largely absent in this book, but somehow was still all too real. By book's end, there was an addition to the family, if a little extra-legally. And the good guys did win out in the end, as all good trilogies demand.
The second book, Medicine Show, brought Gershom closer to the action, while moving the villain from the first book, off-stage, where he manipulated making Shona's life miserable. The setting of the book was Chirwl's home planet and picture the Ewoks in costume and you have a good idea what Shona had to deal with. Shona and Gershom solved the problems with adoption and ended this book with an addition to their family of their own.
Like the first book, which I passed along to doctor-wannabe Krystal from my Movie Mob, this book was a joy to read.
Alas, the third book, The Lady and The Tiger, just peters out. Each of the first two books took about fice days to read, mostly during the pre-sleep period I reserve for reading each night. I was mostly reluctant to put the book down each night.
It took almost three weeks to get through the third book. Mostly, I'd get a chapter in and then call it a night. The joie de vivre from the first two books was missing. Gershowm, so important a character in the first two books, just wasn't around much in this third book. Shona's brood had grown yet again and now she was playing harried mother more than infectious disease problem-solver.
The setting didn't help the book. Unlike the multi-planet tour of the initial volume and the Ewokian-like setting of the middle book, this book was set on Jandidor, a planet of rich, elitist, lazy, mostly contact-phobic snobs. It doesn't work. You just don't care if Shona saves this group or not. And there's no death threats hanging over her head from the second book.
My recommendation is that you get and read the first two books in the series. Leave the third book for when the reading pile has nothing else in it.
Then, about a month ago, I happened upon Taylor's Ark at a book and software blowout store. What a happy happinstance.
Taylor's Ark proved to be a medical mystery thriller in outer space with a decided humanistic approach to its lead character, Dr. Shona Taylor. There's murder most foul in the book, a corporate baddie who is despicable, medical puzzles and a series of supporting animal characters to make Shona's life an abosolute joy to read about. Chief amongst the animals is a sentient cross between an otter and a turtle. I LOVE otters. I LOVED Chirwl, the ottle. He injected that little bit of humour that HAS to be part of any medical story about life and death.
Shona's husband, Gershom was largely absent in this book, but somehow was still all too real. By book's end, there was an addition to the family, if a little extra-legally. And the good guys did win out in the end, as all good trilogies demand.
The second book, Medicine Show, brought Gershom closer to the action, while moving the villain from the first book, off-stage, where he manipulated making Shona's life miserable. The setting of the book was Chirwl's home planet and picture the Ewoks in costume and you have a good idea what Shona had to deal with. Shona and Gershom solved the problems with adoption and ended this book with an addition to their family of their own.
Like the first book, which I passed along to doctor-wannabe Krystal from my Movie Mob, this book was a joy to read.
Alas, the third book, The Lady and The Tiger, just peters out. Each of the first two books took about fice days to read, mostly during the pre-sleep period I reserve for reading each night. I was mostly reluctant to put the book down each night.
It took almost three weeks to get through the third book. Mostly, I'd get a chapter in and then call it a night. The joie de vivre from the first two books was missing. Gershowm, so important a character in the first two books, just wasn't around much in this third book. Shona's brood had grown yet again and now she was playing harried mother more than infectious disease problem-solver.
The setting didn't help the book. Unlike the multi-planet tour of the initial volume and the Ewokian-like setting of the middle book, this book was set on Jandidor, a planet of rich, elitist, lazy, mostly contact-phobic snobs. It doesn't work. You just don't care if Shona saves this group or not. And there's no death threats hanging over her head from the second book.
My recommendation is that you get and read the first two books in the series. Leave the third book for when the reading pile has nothing else in it.
MOVIE: Sky Captain
Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow is an interesting picture to look at. It's all black and white and washed out earth tones. The only sight of primary colours is Polly Perkins' red, really red, lipstick.
Perkins, played by Gwyneth Paltrow, and Jude Law's Sky Captain share the (blue) screen for most of the movie. It's the blue screen that makes this movie a must-see, even if it's only eventually on the small screen in your living room. The movie was shot in a room painted blue, with the odd blue painted box to sit on. The rest of the movie was digitally created. Many, many shots feature LAYERS of special effects. You will see blimps against a background of New York City with snow falling in the foreground. There's all kinds of skylights lighting up the night sky and you sit there and wonder what the film budget must have been.
In reality, it was less than $70 million, a mere pittance in today's film-making mega universe. But it took about eight years for creator/director Kerry Conran to finish the movie. Most of it was doing the animation, some of which started life on a Macintosh computer waaaaay less powerful than the computer you are probably using right now to read this.
The wonderment of all of this, plus the resulting visuals, are the reasons to someday watch this movie. I look, very much, to buying the DVD with its extras.
How was the movie, other than as a spectacle? So-so at best. The film lags in the third half-hour. Characters impossibly survive and scene transitions don't make sense all the time. Paltrow doesn't do much for me. Neither does Angelina Jolie, who crops up about the time the movie let me nod off for a bit of a catch-up on the night's sleep. Disclaimer here: It was a late-night screening and I have been working hard at pretending to work hard.
Bottom line, you SHOULD see this movie at some time. It's not for kiddies, despite its comic book roots. But any adult with any kid left in them, will find it a useful waste of time.
Perkins, played by Gwyneth Paltrow, and Jude Law's Sky Captain share the (blue) screen for most of the movie. It's the blue screen that makes this movie a must-see, even if it's only eventually on the small screen in your living room. The movie was shot in a room painted blue, with the odd blue painted box to sit on. The rest of the movie was digitally created. Many, many shots feature LAYERS of special effects. You will see blimps against a background of New York City with snow falling in the foreground. There's all kinds of skylights lighting up the night sky and you sit there and wonder what the film budget must have been.
In reality, it was less than $70 million, a mere pittance in today's film-making mega universe. But it took about eight years for creator/director Kerry Conran to finish the movie. Most of it was doing the animation, some of which started life on a Macintosh computer waaaaay less powerful than the computer you are probably using right now to read this.
The wonderment of all of this, plus the resulting visuals, are the reasons to someday watch this movie. I look, very much, to buying the DVD with its extras.
How was the movie, other than as a spectacle? So-so at best. The film lags in the third half-hour. Characters impossibly survive and scene transitions don't make sense all the time. Paltrow doesn't do much for me. Neither does Angelina Jolie, who crops up about the time the movie let me nod off for a bit of a catch-up on the night's sleep. Disclaimer here: It was a late-night screening and I have been working hard at pretending to work hard.
Bottom line, you SHOULD see this movie at some time. It's not for kiddies, despite its comic book roots. But any adult with any kid left in them, will find it a useful waste of time.
TV: Heather and the Flame-Haired Youngster
As work permits, I get to catch up with the new TV shows courtesy of videotape. This weekend, the debuts were LAX and Canadian rock half-hour Instant Star.
LAX tries hard. There's more than a few wacko moments that strike one as trying too hard. Especially the complete Serbian crew who gets drunk and then tries to hijack the plane they are supposed to be flying home, but have been prevented from doing so thanks to the usual serendipity. They are stopped when a heroic LAX exec drives her car up against the wheels of the soon-to-depart jet.
The car is driven by an adrenalin-junkie character played with her usual relish by Heather Locklear. From our first sighting of Locklear stumbling out of a car after a night partying to the finish shot where Locklear races through the airport with the ladies' hubba-hubba, Blair Underwood, she is the ONLY thing worth watching intently in this show. Underwood plays unlikable with some relish. He'll obviously have to have a heart of gold. But it doesn't show right now.
Others populate the show, but owe their continuing jobs to Heather. Pretty good job insurance, if you ask me [G].
Instant Star debuted with a double-episode hour after the Canadian Idol final and it felt like a musical Degrassi High spin-off. And that's pretty high praise. Alexz Johnson, she of the strange name-spelling (even her character's name is missing letters- Jude) and Mary Jane Watson-like long, red hair, is a likeable kid too young for the cut-throat world of rock-and-roll music, but out there too much on her own. She has a Lizzie McGuire-like family, replete with mostly antagonistic sibling and two parents too wilfully unaware of what's happening with their darling girl.
What I like about the show is how Kris Turner's Tommy 'Q', the former boy band crooner turned record producer is a little more complex than the usual adult. He's smart enough to squash the inevitable immediate crush Jude develops, but not too nice. He seems to be settling into the role I would envision a producer would fill.
This show is from the folks who have churned out Degrassi material for most of the last two decades. It's almost always quality stuff. Now, if I can only get my neice to watch it ...
LAX tries hard. There's more than a few wacko moments that strike one as trying too hard. Especially the complete Serbian crew who gets drunk and then tries to hijack the plane they are supposed to be flying home, but have been prevented from doing so thanks to the usual serendipity. They are stopped when a heroic LAX exec drives her car up against the wheels of the soon-to-depart jet.
The car is driven by an adrenalin-junkie character played with her usual relish by Heather Locklear. From our first sighting of Locklear stumbling out of a car after a night partying to the finish shot where Locklear races through the airport with the ladies' hubba-hubba, Blair Underwood, she is the ONLY thing worth watching intently in this show. Underwood plays unlikable with some relish. He'll obviously have to have a heart of gold. But it doesn't show right now.
Others populate the show, but owe their continuing jobs to Heather. Pretty good job insurance, if you ask me [G].
Instant Star debuted with a double-episode hour after the Canadian Idol final and it felt like a musical Degrassi High spin-off. And that's pretty high praise. Alexz Johnson, she of the strange name-spelling (even her character's name is missing letters- Jude) and Mary Jane Watson-like long, red hair, is a likeable kid too young for the cut-throat world of rock-and-roll music, but out there too much on her own. She has a Lizzie McGuire-like family, replete with mostly antagonistic sibling and two parents too wilfully unaware of what's happening with their darling girl.
What I like about the show is how Kris Turner's Tommy 'Q', the former boy band crooner turned record producer is a little more complex than the usual adult. He's smart enough to squash the inevitable immediate crush Jude develops, but not too nice. He seems to be settling into the role I would envision a producer would fill.
This show is from the folks who have churned out Degrassi material for most of the last two decades. It's almost always quality stuff. Now, if I can only get my neice to watch it ...
Thursday, September 16, 2004
DVD: Keen Eddie- The Complete Series
The joy of watching collected series of television shows, is watching them in order. To watch FireFly or any of the Stargate years, is to watch a gigantic story being laid out in its intended order by the creators. Frequently, it adds a whole different layer of understanding.
AND cliff-hangers don't bug you nearly as much!!! AND you get to see episodes you missed or were never broadcast. Watching TV on DVD on your TV is a good thing.
AND it gets better with the release this month of the much lamented Keen Eddie series from Fox a couple of summers back. I caught eight of the 13 episodes the first (and second) time around, as a local station blew out its inventory in a post-midnight two-week marathon after Fox cancelled it. I got them onto tape, but kept gnashing my teeth over the missing episodes.
Now I have them. The smile should be visible from low-space orbit. This is a FUNNY cop show. It mines territory explored years ago by the wonderful Dempsey and Makepeace, starring Michael Brandon and gorgeous Glynis Barber. Take a New York cop, plop him down in good old London town, and watch the sparks fly.
Keen Eddie's titular star is Mark Valley, playing Eddie Arlette. Mind you, his mutt Pete, is equally Yankee in tone of behaviour. Team Eddie up with randy Brit partner Pippin, played with hilarious kinkiness by Julian Rhind-Tutt, and you have the makings of a good show. In keeping with Dempsey and Makepeace, the tortured commander Keen Eddie reports to is neither friend nor foe, which is the usual way of handling the dynamic. Colin Salmon plays the role with intensity and submerged personality.
The ladies in the show include Carol Ross, played by Rachel Buckley, and Fiona, played by Sienna Miller. Fiona is Eddie's unwilling flatmate and Miller has the same fiesty attitude and stunning looks as Barber's Makepeace. Had the show continued, Eddie and Fiona would have had their Sam and Diane moment (or two). But we can only imagine at this point. Carol, dubbed Moneypenny by Eddie, serves the purpose of erotic foil, having one dream sequence each episode where Eddie fantasizes that the cool and collected secretary of the commander has said something totally inappropriate.
There were more than a few recurring characters in the short-lived series. None was more seen than Alexei Sayle's Drug Chemist/Dentist/Actor/Informant. You'd have to watch the series to understand the reference, although all shows Sayle is in features the deadpan delivery of the vaunted Brit commedian.
This DVD is very competitively priced, but features NO extras. I mean NONE! It's a menu and three or four epsisodes per disk. That's it. I would have paid extra for SOME extras, but boy is it refreshing to get just the stuff I want most and to get it for two thirds the price I pay for season sets of other shows.
If you are an adult (the shows do have more sexual innuendo than is appopriate for a youngster) and you have a pulse and a brain, then Keen Eddie is a worthwhile use of your DVD player.
AND cliff-hangers don't bug you nearly as much!!! AND you get to see episodes you missed or were never broadcast. Watching TV on DVD on your TV is a good thing.
AND it gets better with the release this month of the much lamented Keen Eddie series from Fox a couple of summers back. I caught eight of the 13 episodes the first (and second) time around, as a local station blew out its inventory in a post-midnight two-week marathon after Fox cancelled it. I got them onto tape, but kept gnashing my teeth over the missing episodes.
Now I have them. The smile should be visible from low-space orbit. This is a FUNNY cop show. It mines territory explored years ago by the wonderful Dempsey and Makepeace, starring Michael Brandon and gorgeous Glynis Barber. Take a New York cop, plop him down in good old London town, and watch the sparks fly.
Keen Eddie's titular star is Mark Valley, playing Eddie Arlette. Mind you, his mutt Pete, is equally Yankee in tone of behaviour. Team Eddie up with randy Brit partner Pippin, played with hilarious kinkiness by Julian Rhind-Tutt, and you have the makings of a good show. In keeping with Dempsey and Makepeace, the tortured commander Keen Eddie reports to is neither friend nor foe, which is the usual way of handling the dynamic. Colin Salmon plays the role with intensity and submerged personality.
The ladies in the show include Carol Ross, played by Rachel Buckley, and Fiona, played by Sienna Miller. Fiona is Eddie's unwilling flatmate and Miller has the same fiesty attitude and stunning looks as Barber's Makepeace. Had the show continued, Eddie and Fiona would have had their Sam and Diane moment (or two). But we can only imagine at this point. Carol, dubbed Moneypenny by Eddie, serves the purpose of erotic foil, having one dream sequence each episode where Eddie fantasizes that the cool and collected secretary of the commander has said something totally inappropriate.
There were more than a few recurring characters in the short-lived series. None was more seen than Alexei Sayle's Drug Chemist/Dentist/Actor/Informant. You'd have to watch the series to understand the reference, although all shows Sayle is in features the deadpan delivery of the vaunted Brit commedian.
This DVD is very competitively priced, but features NO extras. I mean NONE! It's a menu and three or four epsisodes per disk. That's it. I would have paid extra for SOME extras, but boy is it refreshing to get just the stuff I want most and to get it for two thirds the price I pay for season sets of other shows.
If you are an adult (the shows do have more sexual innuendo than is appopriate for a youngster) and you have a pulse and a brain, then Keen Eddie is a worthwhile use of your DVD player.
TV: Yawn! Hold on! There IS TV worth watching!
The TV season is off to a colossal yawn. Well, it was until I finally caught a new show worth catching.
That show is Jack and Bobby. Here in Brampton, I watch it on CKVR channel 20 on Sundays. It's worth seeking out. The show is told in flashback form, the interviewees all in 2041, talking about an ex-president, his early days, his interesting family. The talking heads set up a variety of scenes that help you find out just who Jack and Bob McAllister are, shown in their high school years in the present. It takes a whole first episode to tell which one becomes the future president. It does so with finesse. You almost miss it.
The show, which features Christine Lahti as the scenery-chewing mother of the boys, is a treasure for the language. The show is wordy. Sometimes wordy to the point where I fear less-literate viewers might tune out. But give it a try. Please. PLEASE!!!! This is a series worth watching.
As such, it stands out amongst the new entries in my video-tape library. Joey? A laugh or two, and I really quite like Drea DeMatteo. But there seems to be too many dim-wits in this group for my liking. The rocket scientist nephew doesn't exhibit smarts. Even the next-door potential love interest lawyer seems less than forceful. (And I already miss Ashley Scott, the former Dark Angel/Birds of Prey hottie, who piloted the role, but didn't make it to primetime) It has to grow to grow on me. Maybe, maybe not.
Medical Investigation also suffers from the (lack of) pulchritude factor. Neal McDonough might catch the ladies' eye, but he doesn't do much for me. It's a humdrum medical show with not one thing to make it worth watching instead of something else average. Not bad. Just not better than average.
Same thing goes for Hawaii. Maybe the show would look better if North Shore hadn't gotten to the 'Bra' beat first. That's 'Bra', as in the Hawaiian corruption of Brother, not the bikini top. There's a good Hawaiian show out there. It's called Magnum PI re-runs. The eye-candy is a bit hit and miss in both island shows. Tamara Craig Thomas, the Canadian cutie, has never looked better in Hawaii. Nikki DeLoach and ex-OC siren Amanda Righetti light up the increasingly dull North Shore. But where are the island girls? Lots of beach shots, but no starring roles. Both shows can be watched. But why?
The last of the debut shows I've seen is Father of the Pride. An adult animated show. And the effort is wasted. Ralph Bakshi proved long ago that smutty cartoon animals are just as boring as witless humans working with boring scripts in live action fare. The animation is very good, but familiarity breeds contempt. And after a while, you forget just how miraculous such animation is, technically. With the cost of this show, I'd expect an early cancellation and a release on DVD of the complete series in time for Christmas 2005. But the nine-month lead-time for each episode might mean we are stuck with this stinker for the season.
Let's take a brief moment here to say a sad farewell and R.I.P. to the one decent summer-time series. The Days was the rarity amongst family shows. The kids were all likeable, although imperfect. And the parents were likeable too!!! Shows about pregnant teenagers and pregnant 40-year old mothers don't survive. But they should have. I will miss The Days.
NOW, go set your VCRs for the double-episode of Jack and Bobby on Sunday if you have other plans for the early Sunday evening.
That show is Jack and Bobby. Here in Brampton, I watch it on CKVR channel 20 on Sundays. It's worth seeking out. The show is told in flashback form, the interviewees all in 2041, talking about an ex-president, his early days, his interesting family. The talking heads set up a variety of scenes that help you find out just who Jack and Bob McAllister are, shown in their high school years in the present. It takes a whole first episode to tell which one becomes the future president. It does so with finesse. You almost miss it.
The show, which features Christine Lahti as the scenery-chewing mother of the boys, is a treasure for the language. The show is wordy. Sometimes wordy to the point where I fear less-literate viewers might tune out. But give it a try. Please. PLEASE!!!! This is a series worth watching.
As such, it stands out amongst the new entries in my video-tape library. Joey? A laugh or two, and I really quite like Drea DeMatteo. But there seems to be too many dim-wits in this group for my liking. The rocket scientist nephew doesn't exhibit smarts. Even the next-door potential love interest lawyer seems less than forceful. (And I already miss Ashley Scott, the former Dark Angel/Birds of Prey hottie, who piloted the role, but didn't make it to primetime) It has to grow to grow on me. Maybe, maybe not.
Medical Investigation also suffers from the (lack of) pulchritude factor. Neal McDonough might catch the ladies' eye, but he doesn't do much for me. It's a humdrum medical show with not one thing to make it worth watching instead of something else average. Not bad. Just not better than average.
Same thing goes for Hawaii. Maybe the show would look better if North Shore hadn't gotten to the 'Bra' beat first. That's 'Bra', as in the Hawaiian corruption of Brother, not the bikini top. There's a good Hawaiian show out there. It's called Magnum PI re-runs. The eye-candy is a bit hit and miss in both island shows. Tamara Craig Thomas, the Canadian cutie, has never looked better in Hawaii. Nikki DeLoach and ex-OC siren Amanda Righetti light up the increasingly dull North Shore. But where are the island girls? Lots of beach shots, but no starring roles. Both shows can be watched. But why?
The last of the debut shows I've seen is Father of the Pride. An adult animated show. And the effort is wasted. Ralph Bakshi proved long ago that smutty cartoon animals are just as boring as witless humans working with boring scripts in live action fare. The animation is very good, but familiarity breeds contempt. And after a while, you forget just how miraculous such animation is, technically. With the cost of this show, I'd expect an early cancellation and a release on DVD of the complete series in time for Christmas 2005. But the nine-month lead-time for each episode might mean we are stuck with this stinker for the season.
Let's take a brief moment here to say a sad farewell and R.I.P. to the one decent summer-time series. The Days was the rarity amongst family shows. The kids were all likeable, although imperfect. And the parents were likeable too!!! Shows about pregnant teenagers and pregnant 40-year old mothers don't survive. But they should have. I will miss The Days.
NOW, go set your VCRs for the double-episode of Jack and Bobby on Sunday if you have other plans for the early Sunday evening.
SPORTS: Good bye Vincent Lamar Carter
At this point in time, Vincent Lamar Carter is a Toronto Raptor. He doesn't want to be. And the feeling is SOOOOO strong, that this little mama's boy FINALLY worked up the gumption to say it out loud, within hearing distance of more than friends, family and stooges.
Is Mr. Carter growing a spine? Nah. He waited for the CBA lockout and went public figuring he wouldn't be public enemy #1 when there were so many hockey players and NHLPA union leaders around to excoriate. Like Baron Davis, who I wished ill health, I hope Carter suffers every indignity possible, short of life-threatening.
Carter had a case against Richard Peddie, the meddlesome corporate PITA. Had he come out and stated his case, there would have been immense support for him, including from here. But Carter proved gutless, while a string of syncophants and stand-ins whined for him. And gutless was followed by being clueless. The reputed demand for the Raptors to chase after players it couldn't LEGALLY afford (Steve Nash) nore REASONABLY trade for (Jamal Magloire) only revealed his intellect for what it is: small and hard to notice.
Vincent Lamar Carter doesn't get it. There will come a day, now closer than it was before, when he no longer a Raptor. To that day, we look forward.
Good bye Vincent Lamar Carter. I hope we get a basketball player when you leave. I DO know we will have one less crybaby when you are gone.
Is Mr. Carter growing a spine? Nah. He waited for the CBA lockout and went public figuring he wouldn't be public enemy #1 when there were so many hockey players and NHLPA union leaders around to excoriate. Like Baron Davis, who I wished ill health, I hope Carter suffers every indignity possible, short of life-threatening.
Carter had a case against Richard Peddie, the meddlesome corporate PITA. Had he come out and stated his case, there would have been immense support for him, including from here. But Carter proved gutless, while a string of syncophants and stand-ins whined for him. And gutless was followed by being clueless. The reputed demand for the Raptors to chase after players it couldn't LEGALLY afford (Steve Nash) nore REASONABLY trade for (Jamal Magloire) only revealed his intellect for what it is: small and hard to notice.
Vincent Lamar Carter doesn't get it. There will come a day, now closer than it was before, when he no longer a Raptor. To that day, we look forward.
Good bye Vincent Lamar Carter. I hope we get a basketball player when you leave. I DO know we will have one less crybaby when you are gone.
SPORTS: What else, the NHL Situation
In my misspent youth, a union came to my aid. I was stringing for a major Toronto daily, covering the local minor-league basketball team. I had worked for the team as an announcer, but at this juncture, was back to being an ink-stained wretch. At one point, my editor informed me that the space allotted to the team would be cut in half, immediately. I mentioned that to the team's GM in my daily discussion with the man. He phoned his owner who phoned my boss who phoned me to tell me my services were no longer required.
As it turned out, the journalist union came to bat for me and got the firing reversed. Without my asking. I didn't figure I had done anything wrong at the time. But when the wheel of phone calls finished, I knew I'd screwed up. So, even though I wasn't fired, I never worked for that editor again. Indeed, I only did a few more articles for the paper before deciding I didn't want to work for them ever again. It was a mutually happy parting of the ways.
Going back into my family history, which has a predominantly British background, I have been assured that unions were helpful on the odd occasion. Indeed, unions have been very helpful to those who find themselves in an easy-to-exploit situation where repetitive task labourers were (and sometimes still are) liable for replacement.
Many unions are good things. Many unions are not. As a rule, I think they are anachronistic dinosaurs. My father was a victim of a union where he got the worst of the scheduling because he didn't play party politics. Union bosses have frequently replaced hellish owners as the worst thing that could ever happen to a worker. As such, I have a dim view of unions. And in places where the talent of the individual SHOULD be the work guarantee that is basically the sole raison d'etre of a union, the union is a pain in the butt to all, workers, owners and third parties alike.
Welcome to the mess that is the NHL. The union lives in a fantasy world, claiming it will NOT give up the free market evaluation of salaries. It will NOT partner up with the NHL and accept an in-toto percent of the revenues. It will sit on the sidelines and NOT play hockey this year, members NOT making money, rather than accept the fact that owners, unwilling to continue losing money to let the fat cat unionistas live life large, need a change in the system. The union wants the ability to pig out at the owner's trough, no matter how unhealthy the situation comes for them and for the owners. This group-think is mostly associated with lemmings. I don't think the union is that smart.
For those of you amongst the lower-paid ranks of the NHL, let me tell you the union is bartering your jobs away. Jobs will be lost in the reconstituted NHL when you come back to play after a long stoppage. Tenuous franchises in the American south will be folded or merged. Roster sizes will be decreased. And those lost jobs, which might be as few as 30 and as many as 250, will come from the ranks of the lowest paid. Are YOU willing to risk that cushy livelyhood (approximately a half million dollars a year) so that the best-paid of your brethren have unlimited access to some owner's ego?
Right now, the NHL is committed to a system that saves all the jobs and assures a reasonable amount of money for all players. It does nothing to prevent individual players from getting silly money. You can dream of the REALLY BIG payday, still. IF you EARN it. This is the plan your union refuses to even listen to or negotiate over.
Wow. You've been told you can win this fight. You can keep the unreasonable system that makes losers out of badly-run franchises (Rangers) and well-run ones (Devils). The owners will cave because the fans will demand they throw in the towel as they have done so many times before. The owners, who will lose money during the lockout, will reach a point where they will decide they want some bang out of their bucks and just say "one more year under the old agreement." That that agreement was working in the last two years (thanks mainly to the looming CBA expiration, which the union won't mention). And, most importantly, so that the next generation of NHLers don't look back on your time in the Big Show and curse you for being lily-livered wusses.
Your union lies to you. The fans will NOT fight for you to get on the ice no matter the cost. We, the fans, are tired of paying through the nose, just so you can thumb your noses at us. The fans side with the owners.
Make a deal now. Save the season. Save all your jobs. Else be prepared to be forgotten in America and reviled in Canada. THAT is what your legacy will be.
As it turned out, the journalist union came to bat for me and got the firing reversed. Without my asking. I didn't figure I had done anything wrong at the time. But when the wheel of phone calls finished, I knew I'd screwed up. So, even though I wasn't fired, I never worked for that editor again. Indeed, I only did a few more articles for the paper before deciding I didn't want to work for them ever again. It was a mutually happy parting of the ways.
Going back into my family history, which has a predominantly British background, I have been assured that unions were helpful on the odd occasion. Indeed, unions have been very helpful to those who find themselves in an easy-to-exploit situation where repetitive task labourers were (and sometimes still are) liable for replacement.
Many unions are good things. Many unions are not. As a rule, I think they are anachronistic dinosaurs. My father was a victim of a union where he got the worst of the scheduling because he didn't play party politics. Union bosses have frequently replaced hellish owners as the worst thing that could ever happen to a worker. As such, I have a dim view of unions. And in places where the talent of the individual SHOULD be the work guarantee that is basically the sole raison d'etre of a union, the union is a pain in the butt to all, workers, owners and third parties alike.
Welcome to the mess that is the NHL. The union lives in a fantasy world, claiming it will NOT give up the free market evaluation of salaries. It will NOT partner up with the NHL and accept an in-toto percent of the revenues. It will sit on the sidelines and NOT play hockey this year, members NOT making money, rather than accept the fact that owners, unwilling to continue losing money to let the fat cat unionistas live life large, need a change in the system. The union wants the ability to pig out at the owner's trough, no matter how unhealthy the situation comes for them and for the owners. This group-think is mostly associated with lemmings. I don't think the union is that smart.
For those of you amongst the lower-paid ranks of the NHL, let me tell you the union is bartering your jobs away. Jobs will be lost in the reconstituted NHL when you come back to play after a long stoppage. Tenuous franchises in the American south will be folded or merged. Roster sizes will be decreased. And those lost jobs, which might be as few as 30 and as many as 250, will come from the ranks of the lowest paid. Are YOU willing to risk that cushy livelyhood (approximately a half million dollars a year) so that the best-paid of your brethren have unlimited access to some owner's ego?
Right now, the NHL is committed to a system that saves all the jobs and assures a reasonable amount of money for all players. It does nothing to prevent individual players from getting silly money. You can dream of the REALLY BIG payday, still. IF you EARN it. This is the plan your union refuses to even listen to or negotiate over.
Wow. You've been told you can win this fight. You can keep the unreasonable system that makes losers out of badly-run franchises (Rangers) and well-run ones (Devils). The owners will cave because the fans will demand they throw in the towel as they have done so many times before. The owners, who will lose money during the lockout, will reach a point where they will decide they want some bang out of their bucks and just say "one more year under the old agreement." That that agreement was working in the last two years (thanks mainly to the looming CBA expiration, which the union won't mention). And, most importantly, so that the next generation of NHLers don't look back on your time in the Big Show and curse you for being lily-livered wusses.
Your union lies to you. The fans will NOT fight for you to get on the ice no matter the cost. We, the fans, are tired of paying through the nose, just so you can thumb your noses at us. The fans side with the owners.
Make a deal now. Save the season. Save all your jobs. Else be prepared to be forgotten in America and reviled in Canada. THAT is what your legacy will be.
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