November 07, 2005
{...}There are those of us in America who like films about GROWN UPS, mkay? Who, yes, LOVE films like Blue Crush (heh heh). But who also want films that are a bit more unforgiving. A bit more brutal. Not feel-good romantic comedies. But movies about LIFE, and life's STRUGGLES. In the 70s, studios did not feel the need to APOLOGIZE for such movies - the way Paramount is pretty much apologizing for The Weather Man right now.Less and less in our culture, is there a space for GROWN-UPS. I'm fucking sick of it, frankly. I don't have kids. I resent having the public sphere geared more and more towards the rated G crowd. I resent having movies be dummed down so a certain demographic will go see it. I'm an ADULT and my money is ALSO worth something in this country, mkay? And there are those out there (I know many of them) who have kids but who don't expect the entire fucking world to be G-rated just because they have children.
That's why when films like Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind do well ... especially in the midst of a year where pretty much every big "blockbuster" TANKED ... I just feel so happy about it. So gleeful. The fact that Napoleon Dynamite and March of the fucking Penguins made ENORMOUS profits (compared to the cost of making the films) - while the big blockbusters hemorrhaged money and didn't make it back ... just make me want to clap my hands in vengeful glee.
The Weather Man is depressing. But I actually don't find that to be a strike against it. There are many audience members out there like me ... who do not say "it's depressing" as a warning. It's just a fact.
He is having a midlife crisis. He wants his father's approval. He feels like he has lost touch with his kids. Things are BAD, man.
What - such movies shouldn't be made? Or if we are, we should apologize for them? Or try to trick people into thinking it's a comedy through advertising?{...}
Yes, yes, yes, shrieks Kathy, loudly.
It's been quite disconcerting to become a grown-up. As a kid, whenever I was disappointed that I'd been overruled, which happened often, I would express the wish that I wanted to grow-up, so I could make my own decisions. Here's a question for the children of today: do they even want to grow-up? Because, the way I see it, they've got the world on a string already; becoming an adult would end their world domination. I looked forward to becoming a grownup because grownups got to have all the fun; they called the shots; everything was made for grownups. We children were seen, but not heard. Nowadays everything is made for children because---and haven't we all heard this one before?---the world tilted on its axis the day my child was born. I've never loved anyone so much as I love my child. I don't know how I ever lived before they came along. My life has completely changed for the better!
There's a reason why I bolded all of those pronouns. It's to highlight the parental vanity that is so annoyingly common these days. And that's what this focus on children is a result of: parental vanity. Because as much as I'd like to lay it off on the wee brats, they're not the ones at fault. It's the parents who are to blame for the idea that the world should be one big G-Rated ride on Magic Mountain. How many times have you heard one of those phrases come from an adult's mouth? Did said parent say it with a breathless certainty that they, indeed, were the first people to ever give birth in this world? That they were, indeed, the first people, out of billions, to ever truly get the feeling of love of their child down right? I don't know what the deal is, but there are so many people nowadays who are certain that the most important thing they will ever do is have and raise children. This may be indeed be true. But this doesn't mean the rest of the world agrees with the idea that the world should revolve around their children.
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11:29 AM
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November 03, 2005
Anyway, one time I had to serve papers on Menards. It was my habit to read the petition and the accompanying paperwork, just to know what I was walking into. A woman was suing Menards on behalf of herself and on behalf of her son, because Iowa has that crazy "loss of consortium" rule, wherein your family can be co-plaintiffs on a lawsuit you file because you were less of a family member to them. Anyway, I read the lawsuit and I started laughing, because it was one of those banana peel lawsuits---but not in the way you think. It was a banana peel lawsuit because if you trip and fall on a banana peel, it's funny; if I tripped and fell on a banana peel, it's tragedy---hence I can sue for damages. This woman, undoubtedly, thought that being hit by a falling doghouse was a tragedy. It's got all the makings of one, right? She was walking through her local Menards, her young son walking alongside her, minding her own business, when---WHAMMO!---from out of nowhere, a doghouse that was hanging from the ceiling for display purposes breaks loose of its chains and falls on her. That would be a tragedy, wouldn't it?
I suppose most people would find that a horrifying tragedy. Unless you're me, however. In which case it's damn fine comedy. And you have to hold the laughter in as you serve the paperwork. Because it wouldn't be professional to laugh. Or to join in the laughter of the people you just served when they start giggling. It's just horrible. And your abs quiver horribly under the strain of holding the laughter in, ulitmately straining muscles you didn't know you had,
So, it should be said that I have nothing but sympathy for the process server who had to serve the papers on Home Depot for this little debacle.
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While I generally loathe anything and everything to do with Seinfeld (it wasn't that funny, kids. It really wasn't.), one of the few episodes I actually remember watching was the "hand" episode. What they were discussing over their table at the coffee shop was having "the upper hand" in a situation, but it being kitschy little Seinfeld, they had to shorten it to "hand." Wherein it became something everyone chatted about over the water cooler on some random Friday morning in the mid-1990's. Furthermore, that's when it came to annoy me. (And I should just warn you now that I'm not going to tie this string up later with some clever little throwaway line. It's just not going to happen. The only reason I included this bit in the first place was to get warmed up. This warm-up, of course, had the added benefit of being able to bitch about Seinfeld: what's not to like?)
So, the question searing the gray matter this morning is who has "hand" during the various stages of a couple's relationship? Who's got hand during the dating portion, and who's got it after marriage?
Now, to be sure, this question presumes one thing: that men and women are not on equal footing throughout the course of their relationships. And I would think that's true. Unless the wants and needs are exactly the same, I don't think you'll ever have true equality, and men and women most definitely want different things. Men, when they're dating want sex with one woman. Then they'll want sex with another woman. Then they'll want to take a nap. Then they might scratch their crotch a bit and declare their desire to have sex with another woman, right after they've polished off that leftover pizza in the fridge, etc. Women, on the other hand, want a relationship; they want to settle down, get married, make a home and maybe have babies. But they only want to do this with one man. Inequality. Because many are greater than one, M>1, women do not have "hand" whilst dating.
But, invariably, something happens to the average man, somewhere along the way, and he wants to have sex with only one woman. This something is generally called "love." Or in the rare case of cynicism it's called "I'm tired of catting around." Either way, the man settles down with one woman and---presto change-o!---the power balance has switched. The woman now has "hand" because a man's libido doesn't change when he settles down; all that sex he was having with many women he now wants to have with one woman. And, because of that, that one woman holds the keys to the kingdom. The woman has acquired "hand."
So, you're undoubtedly thinking, But, Kath, it can't really come right down to sex and who's willing to put out? Well, no, it doesn't. Not entirely, but I think that sex makes up a goodly chunk of what's going on there, eh? The need to get laid and to reproduce is strong. You'd never underestimate The Force, would you? Well, don't underestimate the need to get laid, ya dig?
And therein lies my opinion on the matter. For other fabulous Diva-y takes go and visit Silk and Phoenix. Rumor has it that Sadie will be back next week. (Woohoo!) Our guest diva this week is one of the newest members of the fold, Paula of Ultrablog. Make sure you go over and bid her welcome. For the XY Chromosomed view, shuffle along and read what Phinny, Stiggy, Jamesy, and whichever one of the Naked Villains has chimed in this week. The guest men's club member this week is Tea Fizz, so hopscotch on over and read what he's written on the matter.
UPDATE: The Wiz has decided to grace us with his presence this week. Go and read.
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November 02, 2005
{...}The issue erupted into the public consciousness late on Monday, when computer developer and author Mark Russinovich published a blog detailing how he had found the First 4 Internet software hiding deep in his computer, after he had listened to a copy-protected CD distributed by Sony BMG.The anticopying technology included a tool called a "rootkit," often used by virus writers. A rootkit takes partial control of a computer's operating system at a very deep level in order to hide the presence of files or ongoing processes.
Rootkits, while not intrinsically malicious, are viewed with deep suspicion by many in the software development community. They are extraordinarily difficult to find and remove without specific instructions, and attempts to modify the way they act can even damage the normal functioning of a computer.
In the case of the First 4 Internet software, attempts to remove it manually rendered the CD drive of the computer inoperable, Russinovich found.
Several antivirus companies followed Russinovich's news with warnings that the First 4 Internet tools could let virus writers hide malicious software on computers, if the coders piggybacked on the file-cloaking functions. {...}
To sum up: Sony BMG put this rootkit software on their music CD's as a part of their "digital rights management" program. The upshot of this is that if you play a Sony CD on your computer, it will install this software on your computer. As the husband says, "Hackers install rootkits because they can hide them from the Windows API, meaning that any anti-virus or any anti-spyware program that is running within Windows won't be able to see it." So, this is sneaky software that is designed to do sneaky things. According to the article, if you tried to remove the rootkit software, it rendered your CD drive inoperable.
Keep in mind that this is your computer system Sony thinks it has a right to install this sneaky software onto. It doesn't matter to them if you're trying to copy their CD's or not. You could, conceivably, just be listening to a CD on your computer, and if you have some knowledge of how these things work and you found the rootkit, if you tried to remove it, said rootkit will instruct your CD drive not to run.
And this all because you listened to a Sony BMG music CD on your computer.
Now, some bright soul pointed out to Sony that this rootkit debacle opens up people's computers to black hat hackers---people who would do damage to you and your system. What's even worse about this situation is that if, per chance, you were infected with a virus via this rootkit hole on your machine, your anti-virus software wouldn't recognize the fact you have a virus. It would be flying under the radar because it came in through a hole that's under the radar. Sony's bright idea to solve this problem is to release a patch. They think the software should remain on people's machines; that they have a right to install software on your machine without your knowledge to damage your equipment if you do something they don't like---like try to remove software they installed.
This is just astonishing that Sony thinks they can get away with this sort of thing. This is the equivalent of a contractor smashing a hole in the wall of your house and then handing you a piece of plastic and some duct tape to fix it, and then claiming that this should do the trick and you should be warm and dry in the middle of January.
Which, I think we can all agree, is bullshit.
Now here's the question for the lawyers in the house: one would think that Sony would be in big trouble legally for this stunt. Are they? This just reeks of a Class Action suit to me...but I'm no lawyer. Universal Music has subscribed to rootkits, too.
{Hat Tip: Tech Dirt}
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09:35 PM
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- Leftover Halloween candy. Yes, I know, how could I possibly be peeved by leftover Halloween candy? That's just wrong. Well, believe you me, I can be peeved by it because there are no tootsie pops in the bowl. There's a lot of chocolate, provided by Hersheys and Reese's. There's also Sweettarts. But there's no tootsie pops.
Did I mention that we only had two trick-or-treaters? So we have shedloads of candy left?
This is what happens when you send the husband out to buy candy. He forgets the tootsie pops and he buys too much of everything else.
Sheesh.
- The obnoxious Cake Eater neighbor bought his sixteen-year-old kid a Beetle. It's used, but it's only two years old, so it ain't that used.
Whatever happened to sixteen-year-olds being forced to drive 1973 Monte Carlos? Does that happen anywhere anymore? Why on earth should a sixteen-year-old get a nice car, eh? Explain that one to me, would you? And don't give me that excuse about newer cars being safer and these parents are just protecting their precious little brats. Bullshit. Kids are awful drivers, hence they deserve a car that is built out of steel and will survive a wreck---unlike a Beetle, which is made out of plastic and will, I have a feeling, disintegrate at the first tap of an opposing fender. So what if the old Monte Carlo doesn't have airbags? A whopping case of whiplash is just what a kid needs to learn to slow the fuck down.
None of which, of course, covers the long forgotten Presidential directive laid out in the second Nixon Administration that decrees sixteen-year-olds should not be driving cars that are nicer than those their elders drive.
- My 35th birthday is sometime this week. And, yes, really that's peeving me.
- I sprained my ankle last week and while it's turning a spectacular shade of blue, it's still swollen to fuck-all levels. HEAL, motherfucker!
- I was supposed to earn some spare Christmas money next week and that opportunity just got shot out of the water.
- I have to go clean out the pantry. This is one of my least favorite things to do, but it must be done because, well, there's just no frickin' space to move around in there right now.
- I've been savoring this novel for the past week. And while it's so much better than the one that came before, I have to ask: does Diana Gabaldon have a freakin' copy editor? The reason I ask is...
BECAUSE THE CONTINUITY ERRORS ARE DRIVING ME UP THE GODDAMN WALL!
I'm not going to list all the errors I've found here, because I'm not done with the book yet and I will undoubtedly have more to say about it later on. But there are some pretty goddamn basic errors in this book that should have had alarm bells ringing at the publishing company. That they didn't ring bells---and actually made it into print, for Godsakes, well, this tells me that something is not quite right.
And there you have it, kids. Now I'm off to clean out the pantry.
UPDATE 11-03-05 One more to add to the list. Ahem. I am irritated that Steve-o spelled my name with a 'C'.
Waaaaaaaaaaah.
It's like he never knew me at all.
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Environmental group blames charts after ship hits Philippines site"
{Insert much laughing, rolling around on the floor, and tears flowing down my face here}
{Hat Tip: The Kid}
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11:10 AM
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November 01, 2005
I used to think that if all else failed, I could hire myself out as a guide to people from Wayzata and Edina who were trying to get to a show at the Orway or Rivercenter or the Civic, in downtown Saint Paul.For those of you from outside the Twin Cities, Saint Paul is traditionally a mystery to people from Minneapolis. Mark Twain once said "Saint Paul is the last city of the east, and Minneapolis is the first city of the west", and it certainly shows in their street grids;{...}
I would have hired you, Mitch.
I hate driving in St. Paul. It's screwed up. I always used to chalk it up it up to it being a river town, but I realized a few years ago, no, that's not it. You can have a river town that's logically organized. I should know; I grew up in one. St. Paul defies normal city planning convention and it leads to sweaty palms and many shouted "Where the hell am I going?"'s whenever I get behind the wheel of an automobile to venture over to the capitol city. Which isn't very often because the whole experience can be quite offputting. But hockey is over there, so if I had more hockey tickets, I suppose I could be bribed into getting used to it. (Hint, hint)
*Note to the Cake Eater Sister: See? I'm not the only one!
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09:42 PM
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{...}"It's got a more paternal feeling to it," the reclusive director tells Vanity Fair of his once-scandalous romance.{...}
Summed up in one word: eeeeeeeeeeew
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Go enlighten yourselves.
And then start worrying that the toll of post-modernist sin has come due.
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11:06 AM
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10:08 AM
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Eats peanut butter at least once a week- Prefers smooth peanut butter over chunky- well, doesn't everyone?
- Can name all Three Stooges- yeah, but it's not like I enjoy having that information rattling around in my brain.
- Lives within a 20-minute drive of a Wal-Mart -Without traffic. If it's at rush hour, well, it's off 494 by the Mall of Gomorrah and it's a bitch to get to. Besides, it's located in the hood and you'd have to pay me serious money to go there.
- Eats at McDonaldÂ’s at least once a year-I would say that's probably about right. The only time we ever eat at McDonalds is when we're roadtripping somewhere. When the husband and I lived in Des Moines, because it wasn't a bustling Metropolis, we left town for the weekend quite a bit. Des Moines is intersected by I-35, which goes north-south, and I-80, which runs east-west. As a result of our constant mid-90's roadtrips, I am able to tell you, in every direction on those two interstates, where every McDonald's is located.
- Takes a shower for approximately 10.4 minutes a day- If not longer because I'm doing super secret GIRL stuff in the shower.
Never sings in the showerLives in a house, not an apartment or condominiumI wish this weren't the case.Has a home valued between $100,000 and $300,000Has fired a gun-Don't want to, either, because they scare the hell out of me. That doesn't mean I'm going to begrudge someone else, though.- Is between 5 feet and 6 feet tall- -5'6"
- Weighs 135 to 205 pounds -like I'm going to announce that on the internet. Pfft. We'll just say it's closer to the lower end of the scale.
- Is between the ages of 18 and 53
- Believes gambling is an acceptable entertainment option- but surprisingly enough, I have absolutely NO desire to rush right off to Vegas
Grew up within 50 miles of current home-it's a little over 400 miles away
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