a big nerd like me became a closet Star Wars fan. Yes folks, the saga has ended with the release of Episode III: Revenge of the Sith. To say I have waited a long time is an understatement. I was three and a half when Star Wars: A New Hope was released in 1977. Yes, I saw it. Yes, I loved it. And Yes, I saved my Star Wars action figure proofs of purchase to get the Boba Fett action figure.
So, I went an saw Episode III three times already, just to get all the nuances I may have missed. Let me say this - it was freakin' awesome. Everything I expected in this film happened. The action was intense and the saber battles were incredible. Of course, George Lucas is not the best dialogue writer, especially for love scenes. He needs a lot of work in that department. Sadly, Amidala kinda becomes wimpy in this movie. She goes from badass in Episodes I and II to a damsel in distress in Episode III. How is this the woman that took back her own castle in the Phantom Menace and whooped ass on Geonosis in Attack of the Clones? Sure, she's pregnant and all, but even my mom could kick a little ass when she was pregnant with me.
By the way - Yoda kicks ass. The little green guy just knows the score and takes care of business. Plus, judging by the laughter in the theatre, he has some kind of wookie girlfriend (explanation: Yoda says, as he is set to go save the wookie homeworld, "Good relations with the wookies have I." The audience always erupted in laughter at that line. Likely, many of these audience members have good relations with their hands, since they know not the touch of a woman. C'mon guys. It's Yoda and he talks backwards. No need to read your own sexual desires into the dialogue. If you want to have sex with a guy in a wookie suit, go to a furry party. Don't mess with Yoda.)
Darth Vader comes to be. This is the moment we had been waiting for since learning that he was Luke's father in Empire Strikes Back. We all took the same gut punch that Luke took. "Why did Ben Kenobi lie to us?" Well, as you watch Anakin's decent into darkness, you sort of understand how it happened. No, I don't feel pity for Anakin. I just understand how he came to be Darth Vader. However, some dialogue (or maybe deleted scenes) are needed to make it easier to take when Anakin goes from bringer of justice (in his mind) to slayer of Jedi.
Some questions remain unexplained: Why do Obi Wan and Yoda disappear when they die? Why didn't they erase R2's memory too? Where did Obi Wan come up with the name Ben? George - tell us you have some deleted scenes, please.
Now, the original trilogy is still the best, but I am not like the complainers who claim Lucas destroyed his story with the little boy who would be Darth thing. Did I think Episodes I - III were classic cinema? No way. But I loved them because I was in a galaxy far, far away with Jedi (plural - just like moose - one moose or two moose). Jedi are the coolest characters. They get a light saber and powers of the force. We have an awesome story told in six parts. Maybe you didn't like Jar Jar. But, I don't see you writing an epic story like this. However, I am on your side on some things after watching the trilogy on DVD. 1) Greedo shooting first - this is bullshit. I like the fact that Han shot first. He was getting rid of guy who was trying to kill him or turn him in. 2) The exploding ring around the death star - that is just showing off for Lucasfilm. 3) The Ewoks - Did Lucas digitally multiply them in Jedi? Jesus, they are like fleas. 4) The ghost scene at the end of Jedi - Luke looks and sees Ben, Yoda, and the young Anakin? What the fuck? I dig Hayden Christiansen (except when he does love scenes), but what was wrong with Sebastian Shaw (the old guy playing Anakin as a ghost)?
I thought about what I would do if I lived in this galaxy and had those powers. I would never have been able to be a Jedi. I wouldn't use my powers the right way. And I would use my lightsaber to open mail, pop beer caps off, and keep the Black Knight at bay. It would be an awesome power and that is just the weapon. Now imagine having the force. You could do some sinister things to improve your life, such as obtaining money from the bank ATM, convincing a girl that she doesn't need to wear all those clothes, and even force blast people out of your way. But, I could never be a Sith either. Being evil all the time sucks. Not only that, but everyone is after you. I say you should just stay off the radar and take care of yourself. That's what I would do.
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
car theft
So Friday night, I left my car unlocked (something I almost never do). What happened? Some moron (or morons) went in my car and swiped a few things:
1) my checkbook
2) my change
3) my electric razor
Here is what they did not take:
1) my cds
2) my dvds
3) my stereo or sound system
4) my ipass
This theft didn't really bother me. I mean, it was only 4 bucks in change. Also, the checkbook isn't an issue because I closed the account and did all my credit protection stuff that my mom tells me about daily in some panic-filled email. What confuses me is why did they steal my electric razor? It wasn't a great one, and the blades were so old that it nicked my face. But, it was my razor. I wonder if it is okay. Are the thieves using the little brush to clean the blades of old facial hair? Are they not using it near a water source? Are they using it on their faces or on some unmentionable area? Not that you should ever manscape with an electric razor, but who knows with today's thieves.
My only real sadness is that these are the dumbest theives ever. I had 50 cds and 10 dvds in the car. Not a bad haul for a thief, especially since my entire Weezer collection was in the cd case. But they left that stuff right on my front passenger seat. That is certainly okay that they were bad thieves because I went out and bought a new razor and got 50 bucks in gas card for opening a new checking account. Thank you to my little thieves. Enjoy the ball shaver.
1) my checkbook
2) my change
3) my electric razor
Here is what they did not take:
1) my cds
2) my dvds
3) my stereo or sound system
4) my ipass
This theft didn't really bother me. I mean, it was only 4 bucks in change. Also, the checkbook isn't an issue because I closed the account and did all my credit protection stuff that my mom tells me about daily in some panic-filled email. What confuses me is why did they steal my electric razor? It wasn't a great one, and the blades were so old that it nicked my face. But, it was my razor. I wonder if it is okay. Are the thieves using the little brush to clean the blades of old facial hair? Are they not using it near a water source? Are they using it on their faces or on some unmentionable area? Not that you should ever manscape with an electric razor, but who knows with today's thieves.
My only real sadness is that these are the dumbest theives ever. I had 50 cds and 10 dvds in the car. Not a bad haul for a thief, especially since my entire Weezer collection was in the cd case. But they left that stuff right on my front passenger seat. That is certainly okay that they were bad thieves because I went out and bought a new razor and got 50 bucks in gas card for opening a new checking account. Thank you to my little thieves. Enjoy the ball shaver.
Wednesday, May 18, 2005
journals
I was cleaning out my closets this weekend (I'm sorry momma). You never know what amazing treasure, or stunning pieces of crap, you will find. Stuff that you amassed over the years from trips, as gifts, or plain old things you stole from your neighbor's trash at 3 a.m. on a Sunday.
I found a journal that I had written while I was in college. Talk about memories. Talk about what the fuck was I thinking? I must have been drunk for most of those entries. Then I was hit by a bolt of lightining. I am doing a journal again. Right here, as you read, I am doing a journal. Only this time, something is different. I am trying to entertain people here. In the paper journal, I wrote my thoughts and feelings on deep events and occurrences. I would bare my soul on a piece of paper, knowing that in the years to come, I would be the only one to read it.
This blog is similar but not quite. I certainly am writing thoughts and feelings down, but I am not necessarily sharing the deep stuff. Not unless I think it will entertain my readers (do I have readers?) or advance the blog.
Years from now, I may still be writing, or maybe I will have put this blog in the internet closet. More years later, I will Google myself and probably find this blog and laugh. Then I will put on my mind helmet and broadcast my thoughts to people directly. Hmmm.
I found a journal that I had written while I was in college. Talk about memories. Talk about what the fuck was I thinking? I must have been drunk for most of those entries. Then I was hit by a bolt of lightining. I am doing a journal again. Right here, as you read, I am doing a journal. Only this time, something is different. I am trying to entertain people here. In the paper journal, I wrote my thoughts and feelings on deep events and occurrences. I would bare my soul on a piece of paper, knowing that in the years to come, I would be the only one to read it.
This blog is similar but not quite. I certainly am writing thoughts and feelings down, but I am not necessarily sharing the deep stuff. Not unless I think it will entertain my readers (do I have readers?) or advance the blog.
Years from now, I may still be writing, or maybe I will have put this blog in the internet closet. More years later, I will Google myself and probably find this blog and laugh. Then I will put on my mind helmet and broadcast my thoughts to people directly. Hmmm.
they write the sad songs
So, I am jamming to my iPod and the shuffle brings up a rarity: three songs in a row by three of the saddest artists/groups I know. By sad, I mean melancholy, not lame, although one of the three certainly could fall in the lame category too. What were the songs? I know you are dying to know. "Hold Me" by Weezer; "I'm Just A Kid" by Simple Plan; and "One Foot In Front of the Other" by Bright Eyes. Talk about sadness - it was a festival of depression.
So here we have Rivers Cuomo from Weezer, Pierre Bouvier from Simple Plan, and the ever-morose Conor Oberst. This made me think about something off-the-wall (like I need very much to cause this to happen). I saw Weezer and Bright Eyes at Coachella Music and Arts Festival last month with my two buddies, Ricker and Finnerty. Finnerty was very right in pointing out that Rivers and Conor must be the saddest guys in the world. The songs are an obvious commentary on things that affect our lives, and theirs. Why a Simple Plan? I was watching "Cheaper by the Dozen" (no comment on my movie choice unless you wanna pay my cable bill); the film company chose "I'm Just A Kid" to accentuate some sad moment in one of the kid character's lives. What is wrong with that choice? The song is about a guy looking life and just being so sad that it sucks so bad. The film company saw the title and heard the upbeat tune and said "get this song in the movie."
Why are these guys so sad? Well, Rivers is getting older. He is the lovable geek who writes and sings songs about looking at the world through those geek glasses. Pierre is probably sad because his songs have been co-opted into movie soundtracks and cable television series. That, and he is French Canadian. Conor is just plain sad. I don't know if it is because he is from Omaha, or what. But this guy is just damn sad.
Anyways, on to the point of this post. Finnerty, Ricker, and I joked about what would happen if Conor and Rivers got together, maybe even to write a song. Then I thought, what if Pierre showed up. Now we are talking about the creation of a black hole of misery that quite possibly could rip the fabric of existence itself. Would Pierre try to add some catchy punk-pop beat? If you believe that, I would suggest you listen to "Welcome to My Life" - wait, that might confirm your thought. Listen to "Untitled (How Could This Happen to Me)." If you really want to be depressed, watch the video. Sad songs are big business. Sure, upbeat songs make people dance and sing and all that shit. But, we all have gotten mix tapes (or mix CDs for you young'ns out there). Every one of those tapes has some fucking sad song that everyone knows. Who doesn't know the lyrics to "Every Rose Has Its Thorn."
My master plan should go into effect immediately. Rivers, Conor, and Pierre - please get to work on the ultimate sad song. One that is just sad enough to make it onto a great mix CD, but not so sad that we all go into a coma of depression.
So here we have Rivers Cuomo from Weezer, Pierre Bouvier from Simple Plan, and the ever-morose Conor Oberst. This made me think about something off-the-wall (like I need very much to cause this to happen). I saw Weezer and Bright Eyes at Coachella Music and Arts Festival last month with my two buddies, Ricker and Finnerty. Finnerty was very right in pointing out that Rivers and Conor must be the saddest guys in the world. The songs are an obvious commentary on things that affect our lives, and theirs. Why a Simple Plan? I was watching "Cheaper by the Dozen" (no comment on my movie choice unless you wanna pay my cable bill); the film company chose "I'm Just A Kid" to accentuate some sad moment in one of the kid character's lives. What is wrong with that choice? The song is about a guy looking life and just being so sad that it sucks so bad. The film company saw the title and heard the upbeat tune and said "get this song in the movie."
Why are these guys so sad? Well, Rivers is getting older. He is the lovable geek who writes and sings songs about looking at the world through those geek glasses. Pierre is probably sad because his songs have been co-opted into movie soundtracks and cable television series. That, and he is French Canadian. Conor is just plain sad. I don't know if it is because he is from Omaha, or what. But this guy is just damn sad.
Anyways, on to the point of this post. Finnerty, Ricker, and I joked about what would happen if Conor and Rivers got together, maybe even to write a song. Then I thought, what if Pierre showed up. Now we are talking about the creation of a black hole of misery that quite possibly could rip the fabric of existence itself. Would Pierre try to add some catchy punk-pop beat? If you believe that, I would suggest you listen to "Welcome to My Life" - wait, that might confirm your thought. Listen to "Untitled (How Could This Happen to Me)." If you really want to be depressed, watch the video. Sad songs are big business. Sure, upbeat songs make people dance and sing and all that shit. But, we all have gotten mix tapes (or mix CDs for you young'ns out there). Every one of those tapes has some fucking sad song that everyone knows. Who doesn't know the lyrics to "Every Rose Has Its Thorn."
My master plan should go into effect immediately. Rivers, Conor, and Pierre - please get to work on the ultimate sad song. One that is just sad enough to make it onto a great mix CD, but not so sad that we all go into a coma of depression.
Monday, May 16, 2005
Radio Ga Ga
So, once again, I found myself in Champaign, Illinois this weekend. I was downstate for a graduation ceremony at Illinois State University (my undergrad alma mater) and then went to U of I to visit the rest of my friends there. First stop was to see my friend and business partner, Shampooh (Ben Garbe - aka, $uck$ex, NBL, or DJ Tanner), who was graduating too. Always a plus, Ben had on a red dress shirt and a yellow-ish tie (he looked like a professional Winnie the Pooh). Then, I jumped over to Casa de Lawton for a cookout. Now, when I was driving, Planet Paul (name to be explained later) called to let me know about this cookout at Lawton's. I was expecting the traditional cookout with a grill that would be waist-high. Nope, there on the balcony was the little kettle grill people use at tailgates. Gotta love cooking that close to the ground. Fitz was there too, which was cool, as was my personal Dr. Gonzo, Brant G.
We enjoyed hot dogs and burgers while watching the Clone Wars on the Cartoon Network. This cartoon is awesome because it fills in the time period between Episodes II and III. Ricker finally woke up and showered (poor Ry was on a 36-hour finals bender), and we headed over there for beer pong and caps. I was going to head out of town early so I could get home. CPR (yet another name to be explained later) and Fitz all knew that I would stay. I didn't play caps - I am not good at the game, nor am I down with the lingo.
After several games, we all managed to get moving to the White Horse, a local watering hole on Green Street. Now this is where I begin to realize several things. All of us have a connection - a little piece of heaven known as WPGU (one of very few commercial radio stations run by students). Now, the guys of CPR first became my friends in April 2004 when WPGU celebrated its 50th Anniversary by inviting the alums down to U of I to see the station today and remember times gone by. Faster friends I have never made, and they are among the best ones I know. (Blog Sap Alert - could I be anymore cheesy and sentimental? Yes, I can. So fuck you - this is my blog, not yours). What I realized was that these guys would stand by me no matter what hair-brained idea I came up with, including the one where I quit being a lawyer and buy a radio station.
I also realized that it is not a good idea to snort salt. How did I get to that point? Well, we were toasting all sorts of things that night, and Lawton toasted with ranch dressing. The ranch was on the table for the cheese fries we devoured earlier. Too bad Jon the Cubs Fan (JTFC) showed up later and only could drink with us and not eat cheese fries. But JTFC did show up and the party was complete (yes, I know there were no girls there, but it was a guys night out). So, Lawton downs some ranch, and then I follow suit and raise him a shot of ketchup (you catsup lovers can also get your own blog because the word is spelled K-E-T-C-H-U-P). Lawton calls with his own shot of ketchup. I go "all in" with a line of salt off the back of my hand. Lawton matches. I can do no more.
We all realized that the waitress severely undercharged us on the tab. So we tipped her well. Why not? She brought us free wings earlier in the evening, so she earned it.
And what I finally realized is that I have a pretty sweet life and a bunch of kick ass friends, from U of I to the guys monopolizing my couch right now. Next thing to do is realize that I need a girlfriend.
We enjoyed hot dogs and burgers while watching the Clone Wars on the Cartoon Network. This cartoon is awesome because it fills in the time period between Episodes II and III. Ricker finally woke up and showered (poor Ry was on a 36-hour finals bender), and we headed over there for beer pong and caps. I was going to head out of town early so I could get home. CPR (yet another name to be explained later) and Fitz all knew that I would stay. I didn't play caps - I am not good at the game, nor am I down with the lingo.
After several games, we all managed to get moving to the White Horse, a local watering hole on Green Street. Now this is where I begin to realize several things. All of us have a connection - a little piece of heaven known as WPGU (one of very few commercial radio stations run by students). Now, the guys of CPR first became my friends in April 2004 when WPGU celebrated its 50th Anniversary by inviting the alums down to U of I to see the station today and remember times gone by. Faster friends I have never made, and they are among the best ones I know. (Blog Sap Alert - could I be anymore cheesy and sentimental? Yes, I can. So fuck you - this is my blog, not yours). What I realized was that these guys would stand by me no matter what hair-brained idea I came up with, including the one where I quit being a lawyer and buy a radio station.
I also realized that it is not a good idea to snort salt. How did I get to that point? Well, we were toasting all sorts of things that night, and Lawton toasted with ranch dressing. The ranch was on the table for the cheese fries we devoured earlier. Too bad Jon the Cubs Fan (JTFC) showed up later and only could drink with us and not eat cheese fries. But JTFC did show up and the party was complete (yes, I know there were no girls there, but it was a guys night out). So, Lawton downs some ranch, and then I follow suit and raise him a shot of ketchup (you catsup lovers can also get your own blog because the word is spelled K-E-T-C-H-U-P). Lawton calls with his own shot of ketchup. I go "all in" with a line of salt off the back of my hand. Lawton matches. I can do no more.
We all realized that the waitress severely undercharged us on the tab. So we tipped her well. Why not? She brought us free wings earlier in the evening, so she earned it.
And what I finally realized is that I have a pretty sweet life and a bunch of kick ass friends, from U of I to the guys monopolizing my couch right now. Next thing to do is realize that I need a girlfriend.
Thursday, May 12, 2005
smmmm?
So, someone emailed me already and asked me what "smmmm" means? Well, I was brought into the world as a Catholic (save your tears, I recovered). We get like a new name every time we mark some event in our lives (communion, confirmation - you probably get another name at death). It's weird, I know. Why do you think I left? My name at birth was Sean Martin McCumber.
Then there was communion, so I added Matthew to my name. BUT WAIT, there's more. Confirmation - to both Catholics and Protestants - is when a kid affirms the oath made at baptism and joins the church. Hey, I made no oath at baptism. I was two months old. I do believe that puked on the priest though. I bet he was having flashbacks of the Exorcist. Anyways, at confirmation, I added Michael to my name.
So, SMMMM = Sean Matthew Michael Martin McCumber
Maybe I should have chosen Lucius and Anthony so my initials would be SLAMM, but, it's my name and that's what I thought was cool at 13. Dumbass.
Then there was communion, so I added Matthew to my name. BUT WAIT, there's more. Confirmation - to both Catholics and Protestants - is when a kid affirms the oath made at baptism and joins the church. Hey, I made no oath at baptism. I was two months old. I do believe that puked on the priest though. I bet he was having flashbacks of the Exorcist. Anyways, at confirmation, I added Michael to my name.
So, SMMMM = Sean Matthew Michael Martin McCumber
Maybe I should have chosen Lucius and Anthony so my initials would be SLAMM, but, it's my name and that's what I thought was cool at 13. Dumbass.
um, is this thing on?
Okay, so I am late in joining this blog craze and I think I must be partially lame for doing this. However, technology is creeping in everywhere, so I did it. You know what, it took me 20 attempts to come up with my login name. Apparently, there are at least 20 people out there who have similary traits or personality quirks as me. I know everyone has a doppelganger, but 20 of them? C'mon. I'm not that special.
So, what to type. My friend, misslizza, is super witty on her blog and I read it whenever I can. I mean, where else can you find someone who intelligently rationalizes about finding a bug in her bag of organic salad mix. Then there is my friend Fitz - this guy has a rapier wit and I am always happy that I have managed to stay on his good side. If you want to see good writing, check his blog out. So, now I have paid homage to people I know.
I guess I have to start writing my own thoughts. That may take some time to ponder. While I do, salivate over such upcoming topics: my crazy attempt at starting a record label; my jewish partner in grime who works in Wisconsin; my plan to own a radio station; my sad attempt at love. What blog would be complete without a failed love interest.
Later
So, what to type. My friend, misslizza, is super witty on her blog and I read it whenever I can. I mean, where else can you find someone who intelligently rationalizes about finding a bug in her bag of organic salad mix. Then there is my friend Fitz - this guy has a rapier wit and I am always happy that I have managed to stay on his good side. If you want to see good writing, check his blog out. So, now I have paid homage to people I know.
I guess I have to start writing my own thoughts. That may take some time to ponder. While I do, salivate over such upcoming topics: my crazy attempt at starting a record label; my jewish partner in grime who works in Wisconsin; my plan to own a radio station; my sad attempt at love. What blog would be complete without a failed love interest.
Later
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