Sure, we've all thought about it. Buy a new video game, take the phone off the hook, bolt the door, and geek out for, like, a weekend.
But this guy went ahead and did it - and pissed off a lot of people in the process.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Do They Know?
While the flyer has been sitting for over a week in the perpetual pile of crap that guards our kitchen phone, I only just noticed something yesterday. The Grand Prize home in London's annual Dream Lifestyles Lottery has a rather interesting address.
It's 2046 Logans Run, London, Ontario
That's Logans Run, folks.
I'm guessing someone with a sense of humour nominated this street name, and someone who didn't 'get it' did the approval. Or maybe I'm wrong. Maybe there's a geek down at City Hall who has a sly sense of humour.
Either way, if I win this lottery I'll have to take the cash. I'm already too old for that neighbourhood.
It's 2046 Logans Run, London, Ontario
That's Logans Run, folks.
I'm guessing someone with a sense of humour nominated this street name, and someone who didn't 'get it' did the approval. Or maybe I'm wrong. Maybe there's a geek down at City Hall who has a sly sense of humour.
Either way, if I win this lottery I'll have to take the cash. I'm already too old for that neighbourhood.
Sunday, March 18, 2007
Thanks, Ze
I've been a huge fan of The Show with Ze Frank ever since I stumbled across the site back in Summer 2006. It's tough to describe exactly what it is, other to say it's been an experiment of sorts by the aforementioned Ze Frank to host a video blog 5 days a week for 1 full year.
But it's been more than that. Every show is well-produced, entertaining, damn smart, and sometimes silly. Along the way, Ze has attracted thousands of fans from around the world, who have been active participants in this weird, collaborative experiment.
The Show has invented its own culture and vocabulary, including: Sportsracers (fans), Ride the Fire-Eagle Danger Day (Fridays), Power Moves (must be seen to be understood), and the signoff "...thinking, so you don't have to". I can't even begin to describe the fan-collaboration projects such as Earth Sandwich and Dress Up Your Vacuum Cleaner.
If nothing else, The Show has proven there are lots of 'regular people' out there who are full of creativity, and just need a little spark and direction to unleash what they have inside.
Yesterday, March 17 2007, was the last show in the 1 year experiment. I'll miss it, although I imagine that we'll see Ze pop up elsewhere (he's already being courted in Hollywood). Here's to hoping that his future endeavours are as intelligent as the The Show has been.
In the meantime, I'd invite you to check out The Show and Ze's main site. There's lots to do there, and the shows are still archived.
It's been an interesting year. Thanks, Ze.
Friday, March 16, 2007
Where Can I Get a TARDIS? - Part 2
Let's recap Part 1, shall we? It's 1985, I'm in London, England, and I'm driving a car. In what would be an amazingly prescient moment were I, in fact, Chevy Chase, I'm stuck in a traffic circle for all eternity. I'm traumatized to the point where I vow never to drive on the wrong side of the road ever again. Ever. At least, not on purpose.
Now let's set the Wayback Machine for somewhere in the vicinity of Summer 1998. My youngest kid is 2 and a half years old. My oldest kid is 6 months shy of 6 years. We're still basking in the warm memories from our first Big Time Family Vacation, which we had taken in Springtime of that year.
Emboldened by a truly enjoyable week in Florida with 2 young kids (one still in diapers), my wife wonders aloud about 'Europe'.
"I'd love to go someday", she says. "I guess the kids would need to be a bit older".
I know where this going. It's going to be one of those conversations where we both know the right answer, but one us will have to speak The Truth aloud. It's gut-check time.
"That's a long way from home", says I, using my amazing grasp of the obvious. "The kids - the kids are kinda young, aren't they?". I'm looking for the soft landing, but Dee is not going to let me go that easy.
"Sure. You're right, they're too young. I'm mean, they were great little travelers down to Florida. But Europe, that's big isn't it?". Dee's reaching for something, I know. She wants measurable objectives. She wants goals.
So I give her what she wants. "I think we should wait under our youngest kid is, like, 10. You know, old enough to appreciate castles and stuff".
Perfect, I thought. That gives us 8 years - minimum. Not so long a wait as to be unimaginable, but not so short a time as to oblige anyone (like me) to plan or worry about anything.
That was 9 years ago. You probably think you know where this is going.
Stayed tuned for Part 3.
Now let's set the Wayback Machine for somewhere in the vicinity of Summer 1998. My youngest kid is 2 and a half years old. My oldest kid is 6 months shy of 6 years. We're still basking in the warm memories from our first Big Time Family Vacation, which we had taken in Springtime of that year.
Emboldened by a truly enjoyable week in Florida with 2 young kids (one still in diapers), my wife wonders aloud about 'Europe'.
"I'd love to go someday", she says. "I guess the kids would need to be a bit older".
I know where this going. It's going to be one of those conversations where we both know the right answer, but one us will have to speak The Truth aloud. It's gut-check time.
"That's a long way from home", says I, using my amazing grasp of the obvious. "The kids - the kids are kinda young, aren't they?". I'm looking for the soft landing, but Dee is not going to let me go that easy.
"Sure. You're right, they're too young. I'm mean, they were great little travelers down to Florida. But Europe, that's big isn't it?". Dee's reaching for something, I know. She wants measurable objectives. She wants goals.
So I give her what she wants. "I think we should wait under our youngest kid is, like, 10. You know, old enough to appreciate castles and stuff".
Perfect, I thought. That gives us 8 years - minimum. Not so long a wait as to be unimaginable, but not so short a time as to oblige anyone (like me) to plan or worry about anything.
That was 9 years ago. You probably think you know where this is going.
Stayed tuned for Part 3.
Monday, March 12, 2007
So How Cool Is That?
Okay, I know the world waits for Part 2 - breath baited, lives on hold, phones off the hook, etc. - but my Monday steadily upgrades from craptastic to pretty nice.
My kids just sat and watched "Singing in the Rain" with me. I tuned it in as a joke; something to annoy them, really. They sat and watched the whole damn thing; all of us on the couch with arms and legs akimbo. And they liked it.
Yeah, that's what it's all about.
My kids just sat and watched "Singing in the Rain" with me. I tuned it in as a joke; something to annoy them, really. They sat and watched the whole damn thing; all of us on the couch with arms and legs akimbo. And they liked it.
Yeah, that's what it's all about.
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
Where I Can Get a TARDIS? - Part 1
It's funny how events separated by time and space can converge in unexpected ways. In this case, there are 3 events spanning 22 years and 2 continents that have come together to cause me much anxiety. It's a long tale and I'm telling it in 3 parts; beginning with where it began.
Back in 1985 I spent a couple of weeks in Europe with 3 friends. This was the cliched 'students do Europe on the cheap' kind of trip. Except it wasn't. None of us were in school, and we could afford to avoid the whole youth hostel scene.
Rather than use cheap rail passes, our plan included - in part - a driving tour of Scotland, Wales, and England. We rented a car with the intention of sharing the driving chores. We would start at Prestwick, Scotland and end this leg of the trip in foggy ol' London. From there, we would head to the Continent.
I won't bore you right now with the physics involved with a transatlantic flight, too much booze, and driving on the wrong side of the road. The most excitement we had driving-wise was a close call with a flock of sheep blocking a road. Turns out it was our fault - or at least that's what the old guy with the wooden staff told us. Generally, though, we made out alright.
That was before we made it to London.
It was my day to drive. The route: drive from Salisbury Plain (Stonehenge) and drop the car off at the rental depot in London (just off Hyde Park). No one had warned me about the impossibility that is The Traffic Circle that contains Hyde Park. That scene in National Lampoon's European Vacation - Chevy Chase caught in a traffic circle for an entire day - that was me. We spent 90 minutes circling Hyde Park; trying to get to the outside lane so we could pull into the rental depot.
It just could not be done. I'm serious about this. That traffic circle seemed to suck us into the inner lane like some great automotive whirlpool, and It was loathe to let us out. All that was missing from the experience were skeletal remains of tourists and their rental cars strewn about the inside lane. Maybe we were going to be the first.
In the end, Our Saviour was the cop who investigated our illegally-parked rental car at one end of the Park. He took pity on the poor tourists, and used his radio to summon someone from the rental depot to pick up the car. The depot, it turns out, was right across the street from where we had made our last, desperate stand.
I vowed never to drive in England again. Ever. You must remember this as we head into Part 2 of my tale.
Back in 1985 I spent a couple of weeks in Europe with 3 friends. This was the cliched 'students do Europe on the cheap' kind of trip. Except it wasn't. None of us were in school, and we could afford to avoid the whole youth hostel scene.
Rather than use cheap rail passes, our plan included - in part - a driving tour of Scotland, Wales, and England. We rented a car with the intention of sharing the driving chores. We would start at Prestwick, Scotland and end this leg of the trip in foggy ol' London. From there, we would head to the Continent.
I won't bore you right now with the physics involved with a transatlantic flight, too much booze, and driving on the wrong side of the road. The most excitement we had driving-wise was a close call with a flock of sheep blocking a road. Turns out it was our fault - or at least that's what the old guy with the wooden staff told us. Generally, though, we made out alright.
That was before we made it to London.
It was my day to drive. The route: drive from Salisbury Plain (Stonehenge) and drop the car off at the rental depot in London (just off Hyde Park). No one had warned me about the impossibility that is The Traffic Circle that contains Hyde Park. That scene in National Lampoon's European Vacation - Chevy Chase caught in a traffic circle for an entire day - that was me. We spent 90 minutes circling Hyde Park; trying to get to the outside lane so we could pull into the rental depot.
It just could not be done. I'm serious about this. That traffic circle seemed to suck us into the inner lane like some great automotive whirlpool, and It was loathe to let us out. All that was missing from the experience were skeletal remains of tourists and their rental cars strewn about the inside lane. Maybe we were going to be the first.
In the end, Our Saviour was the cop who investigated our illegally-parked rental car at one end of the Park. He took pity on the poor tourists, and used his radio to summon someone from the rental depot to pick up the car. The depot, it turns out, was right across the street from where we had made our last, desperate stand.
I vowed never to drive in England again. Ever. You must remember this as we head into Part 2 of my tale.
Saturday, March 03, 2007
The Kids Are Alright
Right now - at this precise moment - two 11 year-old boys are sitting in front of the 'kid computer' down the hall from where I sit. They're laughing their asses off. They're watching episodes 1 through 6 of Chad Vader.
I'm so fucking proud.
I'm so fucking proud.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Geek Clutter
There be Geeks here, so be warned.
I collect a lot of crap; especially odd things I run across on the Net. The only trait worse than being a website pack-rat is the act of squirreling stuff into forgotten corners. And the only thing worse than that is using two rodent references in a single sentence. So, I guess I'm guilty on all counts.
Today I ran across an interesting Star Wars story. And as I prepared to squirrel... oops....archive the website, I ran across a folder of bookmarks entitled Star Wars. Obviously this was created during one of my legendary creative periods, but finding it (again) was just the kick-in-the-lightsabre I needed to do a thorough airing out of all the weirdly useless bookmarks I've collected in past months.
But the Star Wars folder seems to be a keeper. Whether you're into the whole George Lucas scene or not, none can deny that the man created a happy cult. How else can one explain the time, effort, dedication, talent, and general weirdness that Star Wars has fed through the years?
So here's a small shrine to the uber-Geeks of Star Wars. May you all experience the Sun and kiss a girl someday soon. Oh that I had a tenth of your talents.
-- The story that started this post; a Chicago suburbanite decides to make his own Star Wars movie. Long live public access television!
-- I don't know how or why I have this, but it cracks me up; slightly more mature than fart jokes.
-- Quite possibly the geekiest video ever made; simply and utterly amazing.
-- My personal favourite (and likely a tip from Kid Dork). As a fan and a horribly amateur video-maker, this is High Art to me.
Now the clutter is put into slightly neater piles, and there's room for new shiny things. I wonder what's in the other 28 folders of bookmarks...
I collect a lot of crap; especially odd things I run across on the Net. The only trait worse than being a website pack-rat is the act of squirreling stuff into forgotten corners. And the only thing worse than that is using two rodent references in a single sentence. So, I guess I'm guilty on all counts.
Today I ran across an interesting Star Wars story. And as I prepared to squirrel... oops....archive the website, I ran across a folder of bookmarks entitled Star Wars. Obviously this was created during one of my legendary creative periods, but finding it (again) was just the kick-in-the-lightsabre I needed to do a thorough airing out of all the weirdly useless bookmarks I've collected in past months.
But the Star Wars folder seems to be a keeper. Whether you're into the whole George Lucas scene or not, none can deny that the man created a happy cult. How else can one explain the time, effort, dedication, talent, and general weirdness that Star Wars has fed through the years?
So here's a small shrine to the uber-Geeks of Star Wars. May you all experience the Sun and kiss a girl someday soon. Oh that I had a tenth of your talents.
-- The story that started this post; a Chicago suburbanite decides to make his own Star Wars movie. Long live public access television!
-- I don't know how or why I have this, but it cracks me up; slightly more mature than fart jokes.
-- Quite possibly the geekiest video ever made; simply and utterly amazing.
-- My personal favourite (and likely a tip from Kid Dork). As a fan and a horribly amateur video-maker, this is High Art to me.
Now the clutter is put into slightly neater piles, and there's room for new shiny things. I wonder what's in the other 28 folders of bookmarks...
Friday, February 16, 2007
Life is Februray
Many years ago, I was with a group of friends at bar. Everyone was just cutting loose - chatting, drinking, smoking (those were the good ol' days). Through the general din and nonsense, Someone said something and Someone Else misheard Someone and, magically, the phrase Life is February entered our lexicon.
We laughed a bit at how a mistake-of-the-ear in a student bar on a Friday night could produce such a pithy philosophy. But we knew it was true. Life is February, sometimes - too short from the outside, too long from the inside, a little bit odd, a little bit overcast, and a little purposeless. What's February for after all? What it's reason for being? Why does it seem to last forever and, yet, get nowhere in particular?
That's kind of how it's been this month for me. Too much shit to worry about and too little energy to deal with it, but I'm determined to make progress. I just need to get something done - get something behind me.
And this is how it starts - post something here after almost 2 weeks of silence. It's not really for you; it's for me. And I just accomplished something.
Think I'm going to track down Shinobi and watch it with JediBoy.
We laughed a bit at how a mistake-of-the-ear in a student bar on a Friday night could produce such a pithy philosophy. But we knew it was true. Life is February, sometimes - too short from the outside, too long from the inside, a little bit odd, a little bit overcast, and a little purposeless. What's February for after all? What it's reason for being? Why does it seem to last forever and, yet, get nowhere in particular?
That's kind of how it's been this month for me. Too much shit to worry about and too little energy to deal with it, but I'm determined to make progress. I just need to get something done - get something behind me.
And this is how it starts - post something here after almost 2 weeks of silence. It's not really for you; it's for me. And I just accomplished something.
Think I'm going to track down Shinobi and watch it with JediBoy.
Saturday, February 03, 2007
Chain Blog?
Normally, I don't go much for chain letters. I think it started with a rather embarrassing exchange with a Cub Leader back when I wore a leather woggle. It involved a hole in my pocket, a chain letter from a (girl)friend, and a very public discovery (and lecture) by said Cub Leader.
While you think about that, I'll talk about this.
I'm not sure of the feminine equivalent of a Bon Vivant; but whatever it is, it describes Sheena. So when she tagged me with a chain letter of sorts, I knew I'd be obliged to comply. Frankly, I'd rather not be on the wrong side of sarcasm where Sheena is concerned. I think her words can kill.
So here is for all the world to see: 6 Weird Things About Crazylegs.
1. I cannot stand to see or hear a refridgerator door slam shut. I really can't. When making a sandwich (or whatever), I'll leave the fridge door open until I'm done. Open once. Close once. And since our fridge has never been perfectly leveled, I've had to discover the exact point at which the door equilibrium is matched between 'open' and 'close'.
2. Under the right conditions (spirits can play a part), I can dislocate my left shoulder - and then pop it back in again. This is not a natural talent, but the result of an unfortunate sporting accident from 20 years ago. I prefer not to do this since it hurts the next day. Also, there is no empirical evidence that this ability gets me invited to more parties. Or maybe that should read any parties.
3. I can do cartoon voices - some really well. My Scooby Doo is outstanding and, consequently, children love me. However, I get embarrassed if someone asks me to "do that Scooby Doo voice" and I typically find an excuse to beg off. I only feel comfortable doing these cartoon voices if it's my idea. So don't ask, okay?
4. I did not date in high school. I wanted to, but I just didn't. In hindsight, I know some girls who wondered why I never asked them out. This proves that regular sessions of Dungeons and Dragons and Risk where not necessarily stunting my sex appeal. So why didn't I? Who knows...
5. I'm just 44 years old, and I think about retirement. I think about a lot. I'm betting not a day goes by when the thought of retirement doesn't cross my mind. Whether I love my job or hate it (I don't happen to be lovin' it right now), I'd think about the fact that it's just 11 short years until I'm 55. In all likelihood, I can't retire when 55 - but I'm in denial. Even weirder, there's nothing I'm particularly looking forward to in retirement. I have some vague ideas about travel, hobbies, and volunteering. But the real allure seems to be just 'not working for a living'. The reality may involve dumpsters. I can't wait!
6. Back to the physical abnormalities department: I can wiggle my ears and my nose. I can wiggle them independently. I can wiggle them in grand unison. My kids have never considered this entertaining and, in all honesty, this used to creep them out. Now they simply consider all of this as one of the many annoyances I bring to their lives.
There you have them. This was actually harder than I thought because I've never thought about myself as 'weird'. It must be the people I surround myself with.
Now, to complete Sheena's bargain - and risk losing the majority of my semi-regular readership - I pass the torch to:
Kid Dork
David
Sonny
Good luck.
While you think about that, I'll talk about this.
I'm not sure of the feminine equivalent of a Bon Vivant; but whatever it is, it describes Sheena. So when she tagged me with a chain letter of sorts, I knew I'd be obliged to comply. Frankly, I'd rather not be on the wrong side of sarcasm where Sheena is concerned. I think her words can kill.
So here is for all the world to see: 6 Weird Things About Crazylegs.
1. I cannot stand to see or hear a refridgerator door slam shut. I really can't. When making a sandwich (or whatever), I'll leave the fridge door open until I'm done. Open once. Close once. And since our fridge has never been perfectly leveled, I've had to discover the exact point at which the door equilibrium is matched between 'open' and 'close'.
2. Under the right conditions (spirits can play a part), I can dislocate my left shoulder - and then pop it back in again. This is not a natural talent, but the result of an unfortunate sporting accident from 20 years ago. I prefer not to do this since it hurts the next day. Also, there is no empirical evidence that this ability gets me invited to more parties. Or maybe that should read any parties.
3. I can do cartoon voices - some really well. My Scooby Doo is outstanding and, consequently, children love me. However, I get embarrassed if someone asks me to "do that Scooby Doo voice" and I typically find an excuse to beg off. I only feel comfortable doing these cartoon voices if it's my idea. So don't ask, okay?
4. I did not date in high school. I wanted to, but I just didn't. In hindsight, I know some girls who wondered why I never asked them out. This proves that regular sessions of Dungeons and Dragons and Risk where not necessarily stunting my sex appeal. So why didn't I? Who knows...
5. I'm just 44 years old, and I think about retirement. I think about a lot. I'm betting not a day goes by when the thought of retirement doesn't cross my mind. Whether I love my job or hate it (I don't happen to be lovin' it right now), I'd think about the fact that it's just 11 short years until I'm 55. In all likelihood, I can't retire when 55 - but I'm in denial. Even weirder, there's nothing I'm particularly looking forward to in retirement. I have some vague ideas about travel, hobbies, and volunteering. But the real allure seems to be just 'not working for a living'. The reality may involve dumpsters. I can't wait!
6. Back to the physical abnormalities department: I can wiggle my ears and my nose. I can wiggle them independently. I can wiggle them in grand unison. My kids have never considered this entertaining and, in all honesty, this used to creep them out. Now they simply consider all of this as one of the many annoyances I bring to their lives.
There you have them. This was actually harder than I thought because I've never thought about myself as 'weird'. It must be the people I surround myself with.
Now, to complete Sheena's bargain - and risk losing the majority of my semi-regular readership - I pass the torch to:
Kid Dork
David
Sonny
Good luck.
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
It's a JonBenet World After All
Okay, some Disney Darkness today. On our latest sojourn to the mecca that is DisneyWorld, we noticed a marked upswing in the number of little girls wandering the parks in full 'princess' gear. These were young ladies of preschool age; made up in full-bore coiffed hair, too much makeup, hair and face glitter, and elaborate dresses.
The first few were cute, and we'd often laugh at how a full day at a Disney park would turn these little princesses into tired, disshelved little Courtney Love avatars.
But they kept coming - and coming. This was no random meme. There was something organized here.
Then we discovered the wellspring for all these little wannabe beauty queens and their way-too-adoring parents - the Bibbidi Bobbidi Boutique.
This all feels deeply disturbing, like somehow make-believe has been co-opted by the World of Adults. The innocence of dress-up games has been packaged, structured, and sold to paying Customers.
So I made a little video.
Do I need to lighten up and take this a little less seriously? I'm guessing I do - but damn!
The first few were cute, and we'd often laugh at how a full day at a Disney park would turn these little princesses into tired, disshelved little Courtney Love avatars.
But they kept coming - and coming. This was no random meme. There was something organized here.
Then we discovered the wellspring for all these little wannabe beauty queens and their way-too-adoring parents - the Bibbidi Bobbidi Boutique.
This all feels deeply disturbing, like somehow make-believe has been co-opted by the World of Adults. The innocence of dress-up games has been packaged, structured, and sold to paying Customers.
So I made a little video.
Do I need to lighten up and take this a little less seriously? I'm guessing I do - but damn!
Sunday, January 21, 2007
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
Master Chief? Meet Troy Hurtubise.
A few years back in a what must have been a "Holy crap, there's nothing on TV at 3:15am on a Sunday morning" kind of moment, I found myself watching a documentary on TVO about The Grizzly Man. While he's had some minor notoriety over the years, let me recap in case he's new to you.
Troy Hurtubise was a man possessed by Grizzly bear attacks. While men of similar single-mindedness might chase white whales or sculpt UFO landing sites out of mashed potatoes, Troy's Grail was to invent a suit that would enable a person to withstand a Grizzly bear attack. In the process, he lost just about everything. The ensuing documentary is highly recommended viewing; inspiring, hilarious, and deeply sad.
Troy is back and he's got a new Grail. Have a look at this recent news report and tell me he's not destined for another glorious failure. This is truly an amazing guy. But I think he's looking in the wrong market for his latest invention. There are Geeks out there who'll want to talk to Troy. Maybe one of these guys. Or even this guy.
Sunday, January 14, 2007
Call to Arms!
I'll tell you a secret; I follow politics. I'm not really what you'd call a 'political guy', but I'll be the first one to dial up the election returns with a big ol' bowl of popcorn. You'll never find me storming the gates of Parliament with the proletariat, though. I'm much too lazy for that stuff.
But sometimes, I get pissed. For example, when Ottawa put a tax on many forms of recordable media - just to reimburse artists in case I use that media for illegally recording music or video - I got pissed. Of course, no one in Ottawa knew I was upset about this plan. Consequently, the tax in now in place. I like to think if the muckety-mucks had known I was miffed, they probably would have changed their minds.
What's pissing me off these days is an impending batch of changes to Canadian copyright laws that would effectively eliminate the notion of Fair Use. An example: it's perfectly legal (in Canada) to rip a CD that you own and copy its content onto your MP3 player for your own use. This is Fair Use, but under Ottawa's proposed legislative changes this will be illegal. The CBC has a good article on the topic.
In a nutshell, these changes are being considered under extreme pressure from Big Media and would move us further towards a somewhat-international (read: American) model of Digital Rights Management (DRM). This is bad - unless you like being told how and when you can enjoy music, movies, TV, software, and any other form of 'media content' that you thought you paid for. However, this is good for (some) content creators since they can decide how and when they'll take their pound of flesh even after you've actually paid them for their product.
In the meantime, Michael Geist (Canadian media law professor) maintains a kick-ass blog on the subject which will give you all the gory details if you're so inclined. And if you really want to voice your displeasure, contact your MP. For couch vegetation like myself, this has been made almost too easy. For the more ambitious, you can phone or write your MP starting here.
So, get pissed like me. You'll feel better.
But sometimes, I get pissed. For example, when Ottawa put a tax on many forms of recordable media - just to reimburse artists in case I use that media for illegally recording music or video - I got pissed. Of course, no one in Ottawa knew I was upset about this plan. Consequently, the tax in now in place. I like to think if the muckety-mucks had known I was miffed, they probably would have changed their minds.
What's pissing me off these days is an impending batch of changes to Canadian copyright laws that would effectively eliminate the notion of Fair Use. An example: it's perfectly legal (in Canada) to rip a CD that you own and copy its content onto your MP3 player for your own use. This is Fair Use, but under Ottawa's proposed legislative changes this will be illegal. The CBC has a good article on the topic.
In a nutshell, these changes are being considered under extreme pressure from Big Media and would move us further towards a somewhat-international (read: American) model of Digital Rights Management (DRM). This is bad - unless you like being told how and when you can enjoy music, movies, TV, software, and any other form of 'media content' that you thought you paid for. However, this is good for (some) content creators since they can decide how and when they'll take their pound of flesh even after you've actually paid them for their product.
In the meantime, Michael Geist (Canadian media law professor) maintains a kick-ass blog on the subject which will give you all the gory details if you're so inclined. And if you really want to voice your displeasure, contact your MP. For couch vegetation like myself, this has been made almost too easy. For the more ambitious, you can phone or write your MP starting here.
So, get pissed like me. You'll feel better.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Cursed Dinghy Ride
Some love it, some hate it; but everyone knows it.
When the real world has you down, when you've spent far too many hours in WoW killing Orcs and Undead, when you start to actually 'care' about the fragility of a minority government in Ottawa, when the weekly Canadian Tire flyer is all you have to look forward to - I offer the following salve to restore your heart and soul.
KD.... this one's for you.
And if this video montage has elevated your blood sugar to dangerously high levels - an antidote.
Cheers.
When the real world has you down, when you've spent far too many hours in WoW killing Orcs and Undead, when you start to actually 'care' about the fragility of a minority government in Ottawa, when the weekly Canadian Tire flyer is all you have to look forward to - I offer the following salve to restore your heart and soul.
KD.... this one's for you.
And if this video montage has elevated your blood sugar to dangerously high levels - an antidote.
Cheers.
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Seen and Heard...
Just a few Floridian observations:
Best. T-Shirt. Ever. "I love manatees...... they taste like children"
Florida is becoming an incredibly popular vacation-spot for South Americans. Going 'north' for a winter vacation seems wrong to me.
Regardless of age, South American women love their thong bikinis. Trust me on this.
Question: Do young Japanese tourists try to look like anime characters, or is the opposite true?
Brazilians, hands down, are the most attractive people on the planet.
Nobody should take my picture while I'm frolicking at a water-park in my bathing suit. Ever.
South Americans never stop talking. Not even when they're supposed to.
There are few sights sadder than watching people wander around eating giant smoked turkey legs. Street vendors should not be allowed to sell them; at least while I'm watching.
A growing trend: people renting wheelchairs or electric scooters at theme parks to (1) avoid all the trouble of... umm... walking and (2) to get preferential admission to shows, rides, parades, etc. Double karma loss if your family members take turns being 'the disabled one'.
The FAA should require that dog tranquilizers be mandatory for all children under 10 years of age on flights. Allowing their parents to partake would also be acceptable.
You can buy more stuff in the States. That's cool.
I cannot - and will never - look cool behind the wheel of a white PT Cruiser.
More to come, perhaps.
Best. T-Shirt. Ever. "I love manatees...... they taste like children"
Florida is becoming an incredibly popular vacation-spot for South Americans. Going 'north' for a winter vacation seems wrong to me.
Regardless of age, South American women love their thong bikinis. Trust me on this.
Question: Do young Japanese tourists try to look like anime characters, or is the opposite true?
Brazilians, hands down, are the most attractive people on the planet.
Nobody should take my picture while I'm frolicking at a water-park in my bathing suit. Ever.
South Americans never stop talking. Not even when they're supposed to.
There are few sights sadder than watching people wander around eating giant smoked turkey legs. Street vendors should not be allowed to sell them; at least while I'm watching.
A growing trend: people renting wheelchairs or electric scooters at theme parks to (1) avoid all the trouble of... umm... walking and (2) to get preferential admission to shows, rides, parades, etc. Double karma loss if your family members take turns being 'the disabled one'.
The FAA should require that dog tranquilizers be mandatory for all children under 10 years of age on flights. Allowing their parents to partake would also be acceptable.
You can buy more stuff in the States. That's cool.
I cannot - and will never - look cool behind the wheel of a white PT Cruiser.
More to come, perhaps.
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
Back Through The Looking-Glass
I'm back from the parallel universe that is Florida. By turns it was an entertaining and (sometimes) deeply weird trip. I'll be sharing some of this goodness in posts to come - including a bit of video exposing some Disney Darkness that may impress you as being far more disturbing than Tigger throwing punches at paying guests.
In the meantime, let me play catch-up and answer a few questions and comments that were waiting for me:
David - I hear you, brother. I won't divulge the number of times I've found myself at Disney World since my first encounter with 'the magic' at 15 (ahem..it's in the double digits). It will always hold a soft spot in my shrunken, cynical heart, too. I simply love it there.
KD - There's no request too large coming from our own Patron Saint of Geekiness. Chlorine, refuse, and singing urchins? Done and done! Look for the video evidence in the days to come. Just for you my friend.
Sonny - Alas, Mister Toad's Wild Ride was closed a few years back to make way for a Winnie the Pooh attraction at the Magic Kingdom. It was a sentimental fave of mine, but I have no real favourite ride. Peter Pan is a must-do as is Pirates of the Caribbean. Both simply take me back to happy times past. I will allow that Mission:Space at EPCOT is sort of a fave. Any ride that pulls 3 Gs (seriously) and causes a blood vessel in my eye to burst (not kidding) must definitely rock.
There is so much to share, so stay tuned!
Friday, December 29, 2006
Break Time
I'm outta here for a week. In a few short hours I'll be relaxing my way behind a steering wheel as we careen down I-94 to Detroit Metro Airport. There, I'll be further relaxed as I cram into an aisle seat in what passes for air travel these days. But it'll be worth it when we disembark at Orlando airport and I see the first palm tree; assuming the luggage arrives.
Disney, I'm coming for you.
And I'm bringing my wallet.
See you all soon.
Thursday, December 28, 2006
For Pat
We've had out share of loss over the past 12 months: cancer, death, afflictions - all unexpected and sad. And as we prepare to say goodbye and good riddance to 2006, the old man with the scythe took one more parting swipe - and we lost our friend Pat.
54 years young with energy enough to be a popular teacher to her Grade One pupils, Pat was the kind of person you'd like the moment you met her. I met her some 20 years ago on my first trip to Dee's family cottage. Her family has the cottage next door and has been friends with Dee's family since god-knows-when. Our first meeting was memorable mostly because (1) she was the first person I saw as we pulled into the cottage dock and (2) she was wearing the smallest bikini I'd ever seen (and I would soon learn this was her standard attire for 2 months every Summer).
Over the years I got to know Pat and her husband Henry as two of the kindest souls I'd ever meet. This is not hyperbole; they truly believed in kindness towards All as their way to live in the world. Even more special for us, my kids - especially JediBoy - formed a special relationship with Pat. They spent Summers playing with Pat's dog, baking her donuts, learning to ride one of Pat's waterbikes, or just chillin' on Pat's dock. All of this was just woven into the fabric of their cottage Summers - expected and perhaps taken for granted.
When we lost Pat just before Christmas, it was not expected. The sudden onset of a rare blood disease took her from us in just 5 short weeks. We all took it hard, but no one harder than my kids, I think. This was their first real meeting with death: grief, a casket, new kinds of manners, 200-odd mourners and most of them Strangers. They did us proud and I know it was hard for them. It was hard for all of us.
So goodbye, Pat. We miss you. It still hurts, and this Summer it will hurt again when we pull into the dock and you're not there. I think we'll cry again.
54 years young with energy enough to be a popular teacher to her Grade One pupils, Pat was the kind of person you'd like the moment you met her. I met her some 20 years ago on my first trip to Dee's family cottage. Her family has the cottage next door and has been friends with Dee's family since god-knows-when. Our first meeting was memorable mostly because (1) she was the first person I saw as we pulled into the cottage dock and (2) she was wearing the smallest bikini I'd ever seen (and I would soon learn this was her standard attire for 2 months every Summer).
Over the years I got to know Pat and her husband Henry as two of the kindest souls I'd ever meet. This is not hyperbole; they truly believed in kindness towards All as their way to live in the world. Even more special for us, my kids - especially JediBoy - formed a special relationship with Pat. They spent Summers playing with Pat's dog, baking her donuts, learning to ride one of Pat's waterbikes, or just chillin' on Pat's dock. All of this was just woven into the fabric of their cottage Summers - expected and perhaps taken for granted.
When we lost Pat just before Christmas, it was not expected. The sudden onset of a rare blood disease took her from us in just 5 short weeks. We all took it hard, but no one harder than my kids, I think. This was their first real meeting with death: grief, a casket, new kinds of manners, 200-odd mourners and most of them Strangers. They did us proud and I know it was hard for them. It was hard for all of us.
So goodbye, Pat. We miss you. It still hurts, and this Summer it will hurt again when we pull into the dock and you're not there. I think we'll cry again.
Friday, December 22, 2006
Christmas Comes Early
A mea culpa: This post was largely cribbed from BoingBoing and Cityrag. I was so excited, I wanted to share with you all.....errr....all 5 of you.
Back in 1994, a guy named Jerry Beck apparently wrote a book about the 50 greatest animated shorts of all time, as voted by the animation industry. We all might disagree with some of the choices or omissions, but I have to say that it's very cool to see The Big Snit in there at #25!
The good people at Cityrag found copies of these online (all except 6) and posted the links for all to enjoy. I've also duplicated their list below for your convenience.
Merry Chistmas!
1. What's Opera, Doc? (1957)
2. Duck Amuck (1953)
3. The Band Concert (1935)
4. Duck Dodgers in the 24½th Century (1953)
5. One Froggy Evening (1956)
6. Gertie the Dinosaur (1914)
7. Red Hot Riding Hood (1943)
8. Porky in Wackyland (1938)
9. Gerald McBoing-Boing (1951)
10. King Size Canary (1947)
11. Three Little Pigs (1933)
12. Rabbit of Seville (1950)
13. Steamboat Willie (1928)
14. The Old Mill (1937)
15. Bad Luck Blackie (1949)
16. The Great Piggy Bank Robbery (1946)
17. Popeye the Sailor Meets Sinbad the Sailor (1936)
18. The Skeleton Dance (1929)
19. Snow White (1933)
20. Minnie the Moocher (1932)
21. Coal Black and de Sebben Dwarfs (1943)
22. Der Fuehrer's Face (1943)
23. Little Rural Riding Hood (1949)
24. The Tell-Tale Heart (1953)
25. The Big Snit (1985)
26. Brave Little Tailor (1938)
27. Clock Cleaners (1937)
28. Northwest Hounded Police (1946)
29. Toot, Whistle, Plunk and Boom (1953)
30. Rabbit Seasoning (1952)
31. The Scarlet Pumpernickel (1950)
32. The Cat Came Back (1988)
33. Superman (1941)
34. You Ought to Be in Pictures (1940)
35. Ali Baba Bunny (1957)
36. Feed the Kitty (1952)
37. Bimbo's Initiation (1931)
38. Bambi Meets Godzilla (1969)
39. Little Red Riding Rabbit (1941)
40. Peace on Earth (1939)
41. Rooty Toot Toot (1952)
42. The Cat Concerto (1947)
43. The Barber of Seville (1944)
44. The Man Who Planted Trees (1987)
45. Book Revue (1946)
46. Quasi at the Quackadero (1975)
47. Corny Concerto (1943)
48. The Unicorn in the Garden (1953)
49. The Dover Boys (1942)
50. Felix in Hollywood (1923)
Back in 1994, a guy named Jerry Beck apparently wrote a book about the 50 greatest animated shorts of all time, as voted by the animation industry. We all might disagree with some of the choices or omissions, but I have to say that it's very cool to see The Big Snit in there at #25!
The good people at Cityrag found copies of these online (all except 6) and posted the links for all to enjoy. I've also duplicated their list below for your convenience.
Merry Chistmas!
1. What's Opera, Doc? (1957)
2. Duck Amuck (1953)
3. The Band Concert (1935)
4. Duck Dodgers in the 24½th Century (1953)
5. One Froggy Evening (1956)
6. Gertie the Dinosaur (1914)
7. Red Hot Riding Hood (1943)
8. Porky in Wackyland (1938)
9. Gerald McBoing-Boing (1951)
10. King Size Canary (1947)
11. Three Little Pigs (1933)
12. Rabbit of Seville (1950)
13. Steamboat Willie (1928)
14. The Old Mill (1937)
15. Bad Luck Blackie (1949)
16. The Great Piggy Bank Robbery (1946)
17. Popeye the Sailor Meets Sinbad the Sailor (1936)
18. The Skeleton Dance (1929)
19. Snow White (1933)
20. Minnie the Moocher (1932)
21. Coal Black and de Sebben Dwarfs (1943)
22. Der Fuehrer's Face (1943)
23. Little Rural Riding Hood (1949)
24. The Tell-Tale Heart (1953)
25. The Big Snit (1985)
26. Brave Little Tailor (1938)
27. Clock Cleaners (1937)
28. Northwest Hounded Police (1946)
29. Toot, Whistle, Plunk and Boom (1953)
30. Rabbit Seasoning (1952)
31. The Scarlet Pumpernickel (1950)
32. The Cat Came Back (1988)
33. Superman (1941)
34. You Ought to Be in Pictures (1940)
35. Ali Baba Bunny (1957)
36. Feed the Kitty (1952)
37. Bimbo's Initiation (1931)
38. Bambi Meets Godzilla (1969)
39. Little Red Riding Rabbit (1941)
40. Peace on Earth (1939)
41. Rooty Toot Toot (1952)
42. The Cat Concerto (1947)
43. The Barber of Seville (1944)
44. The Man Who Planted Trees (1987)
45. Book Revue (1946)
46. Quasi at the Quackadero (1975)
47. Corny Concerto (1943)
48. The Unicorn in the Garden (1953)
49. The Dover Boys (1942)
50. Felix in Hollywood (1923)
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