Twittering Part 4

1) I always hate to admit when I'm wrong, but Twitter's decision to remove the option of seeing "@ replies" from the people who you're following has been a godsend. At the time, I was really annoyed they took it away (and the way they handled it was undeniably horrible), but I've really enjoyed the reduction in tweets.

Granted, there are people whose replies I'd love to see because they'd be of interest to me. But there are also people (mostly pseudo-celebrity media types) who already tweet more than they probably should, and their replies, would just take up more room on my stream than they already do.

2) I almost couldn't even read Twitter during the first few days of the Iranian election protests, because of the sheer amount of self-righteousness emanating from it. Not from the Iranian users, of course, but the American ones. How many times did you see some variation of this re-tweeted?: @CNN You are risking lives for ratings!!!! Stop posting Twitter names!!!!

Uh, no.

Suppose CNN just ran the tweets without the user names. Twitter's search function is amazingly effective. You know how easy it would have been for any Iranian authorities monitoring the situation to use it to find a specific tweet and/or user? Really easy. Or they could have just clicked on the Iranian election hashtag. Or follow all the re-tweets back to their source.

It may be harsh, but the bottom line is, if the protesters didn't expect their tweets to be widely disseminated and possibly be identified by them, they shouldn't have been using Twitter. CNN did nothing wrong. People just like to whine and scream at people they otherwise wouldn't have access to.

I also did a fair amount of eye-rolling at the frantic tweets asking users to change their profile location to Tehran in an effort to fool the Iranian authorities. Not surprisingly, this was soon debunked as being completely ineffective, but not before I saw it re-tweeted a good three dozen times.

I get how some people feel a need to "do something" when it comes to an event like the Iranian protests. Especially since the Internet makes it so easy to feel like you are, even if you're not. And to be fair, some people in this country actually were doing something, like the hackers who created proxies for Iranians to circumvent censors. But otherwise, unless you can do something that would be directly helpful, it really is okay to just stand back and observe. I'd be curious to know how many of the Twitter users who spent that week working up a sweat at their keyboard, tried calling their congressman or donated to some nonprofit dedicated to Iranian reform or basically anything that would have required more effort than simply typing "RT" and cutting and pasting something.

3) Like all Twitter users, I get people who sign up to follow me and then when they see I'm not following them back, they stop. And I'm used to this. But a few weeks ago, I had someone follow me because she genuinely seemed to dig my tweets. And she would reply to them. Fairly often. Probably more than one person should reply to someone. I never replied back, and after a few days, she stopped following me.

I think a lot of Twitter users think of tweets as a conversation, and the problem is, they're not. When X responds to Y's tweet and Y doesn't respond back, it's not like they're actually speaking with one another, and X says something and Y just stares off into space because he's a dick. If someone responds to you, and you honestly can't think of anything to say other than, "Totally!" or "LOL!" is there really a point in responding?

4) I've been seeing a few of these sort of tweets recently: RT This for a chance to win (some prize) from @somecompany! So far, it hasn't really been a problem, but it's not hard to imagine that changing as more and more companies hop on board the Twitter bandwagon.

For these companies, this sort of thing has to be the most appealing way of running a contest ever. It requires no effort whatsoever other than the initial tweet and then picking a winner. All the work is done by other people. Like I said, it's not a big deal now, but sooner or later, Twitter's either going to have to ban this or charge companies for the ability to run such contests, because otherwise, there's going to be a consistent glut of these tweets, and Twitter will be overrun by spam.

Eastern Market

It was a great day at the grand re-opening of Eastern Market.

A balloon arch is scientifically proven to make any festive event 18% more festive. (However, parking a police car underneath it considerably lessens the effect.)

Much nicer than the old building. Plus new restrooms! All things being equal, totally worth $22 million.

This was just the line to get into the line for Market Lunch. It's really not worth the wait, folks.

There was music.

There was art.

There were empanadas. Empanadas I've long considered to be the best in all of D.C. Maybe the world. (No I haven't had every other empanada in D.C. or the world. But I stand by my claim.)

There were tote bags and T-shirts.

There was local media. When I was passing by the NBC guy, someone asked him where Jim Vance was. His response: "Jim Vance doesn't work weekends. That's why he has us peons." (Just to be clear, he said it jokingly.) Which is as it should be, Jim Vance being the fucking man and all.

There were even people exploiting the dead.

And a good time was had by all.

Panel of the Week

From Gotham City Sirens #1:

Barack the Barbarian #1

"This is Barack the Barbarian! I am asking you to follow him as you would follow me. Onward, sisters--to the Pit of Contention and Woe!" - Hilaria

You know how ten years ago, SNL would regularly take concepts that were perfectly suited for three-minute sketches, and then get greedy and expand them into 90-minute films? So we ended up with gems like Superstar and A Night at the Roxbury?

Barack the Barbarian seems sort of like that. The idea of a political satire of the 2008 presidential election set against the sword and sorcery genre isn't a bad one--although, how well it's executed here is questionable--but it seems like an idea for a one-shot at most. Maybe even just a short story in an anthology. But an ongoing series? I think the joke's going to get really old, really fast. Assuming it hasn't already.

The story opens with Barack the Barbarian arriving in the town of Warshingtun with only his sword and his donkey, where he quickly runs into oddly familiar places and people. There's Hilaria (obvious) and her army of amazons, Manny the Fixer (Rahm Emanuel), the evil Boosh and his vizier (Bush and Cheney) who are holding the Goddess (Michelle Obama?) captive in a tower, the Old Warrior (John McCain), and Red Sarah, who's based on...well...

Some might call this outfit sexist or disrespectful, but you know what? I really think Sarah Palin could pull it off. And I'd very much like to see her try.

Anyway, as with any political satire, the issue is full of in-jokes and not-so-veiled references to various political institutions. Next issue promises the Labyrinth of Pundits, and it's not hard to guess who will show up in that one.

Here's the real problem with the issue, though: It's just not funny. It's amusing. But again, sort of like how a brief SNL sketch is amusing, but becomes considerably less so as it drags on.

To be fair, there are a few clever moments, like when Barack and Manny discuss offering Hileria the viziership in exchange for her support (Barack: "Offer a prize we have yet to win?" Manny: "Standard practice.") As well as scenes like this:

Regardless, though, it never rises above, "Hey, look, it's the president of the United States in a loincloth carrying a sword. Laugh." There's a reason why SNL sketches, JibJab videos, etc. are only a couple of minutes long, as opposed to ninety minutes. And so the idea of Barack the Barbarian as an ongoing series kind of makes my head hurt.

Ever since putting President Obama on the cover of The Amazing Spider-Man in January made Marvel a small fortune, publishers have been rushing to think of ways to capitalize on his popularity. This is a trend that really needs to stop. You can only use the same gag so many times before it's tired and hack, and really just irritating. Hopefully, Barack the Barbarian will finally make the comic book industry take a step back and realize that maybe they've taken this just a bit too far.

Or not.

Best 80s Batman stories not written by Alan Moore or Frank Miller

Things we enjoy in 2009 like the Internet, DVRs, and non-invasive medical procedures are nice, but they don't even come close to how awesome the 1980s were. Sure, there were things like AIDS and the threat of nuclear war with the Soviet Union, but I was too young to care about any of that crap. I was a kid. All I cared about was being entertained.

And you know what? Every single form of entertainment was better in the 80s. Movies were better. Music was better. TV shows were better. Video games were...okay, video games kind of sucked compared to today. But there were video game arcades! And they were great.

Comic books were better, too. Specifically Batman comics. There was so much groundbreaking stuff published in later half of that decade, it's almost impossible to imagine anything like it happening again. The Dark Knight Returns, Year One, The Killing Joke...arguably the three greatest Batman stories of all time, all published within a three year period. Boggles the mind.

There were tons of other great Batman stories published in the 80s. Believe me, few things in life make me as happy as finding an issue of Batman or Detective Comics published that I haven't read. And as much as I'd love to do the super anal retentive comic book nerd thing and go through my collection and pull out individual issues, unfortunately, my collection is many miles away. So I'll have to settle for stories that are available in collected editions. (Four of them being by just two writers, Jim Starlin and Mike Barr, which is a really good indication that Jim Starlin and Mike Barr need to be working more.)



5) Justice League International, Vol. 1 (1987)

Plot: After being disbanded, the Justice League reforms, albeit, without most of its former members. Batman being the notable exception.

Why It's Awesome: You don't normally think of "Batman" and "funny" together. At least, you shouldn't, because that's how things like the old Batman TV show, Batman and Robin guest-starring on Scooby Doo, and, of course, the biggest cinematic train wreck in history, Batman & Robin, came to be.

But Justice League--which may not be the first comic to do superheroes as a sitcom, but was definitely the first comic to perfect it--actually manages to get it right. While Batman was off brooding and being dark in his own comic, it was really nice to see the lighter side of the character here, even if he was usually playing the straight man.




4) Year Two (1987)

Plot: In his second year, Batman has to team up with the man who killed his parents in order to defeat the Reaper, the homicidal vigilante who protected Gotham City before him.

Why It's Cool: This story gets overshadowed by Year One, and DC seems to keep changing its mind as to whether or not it's even considered to be in continuity. But it's still a great story, exploring themes like love, revenge, betrayal, and moral compromise. It also has a lot of fantastic action sequences, as for the first time, Batman gets his ass handed to him by a superior opponent, and has to figure out how to level the playing field.




3) A Death In the Family (1988)

Plot: Batman and Robin set off around the world to find Robin's mother. Instead, they find the Joker. Who murders Robin. And then becomes the Iranian ambassador to the United Nations. Tell me this does not sound like the coolest story ever.

Why It's Awesome: You saw the part about the Joker killing Robin and becoming the Iranian ambassador to the UN, right? But if you need more, this was one of the most pivotal Batman stories ever published, completing the character's turn from occasionally grim and gritty (in a Red Tornado mini-series published a little before this, Batman is seen offering to take the entire Justice League out for doughnuts, not typically the mark of a despondent loner vigilante) to full on Grim and Gritty.




2) Son of the Demon (1987)

Plot: Batman and arch-enemy Ra's al Ghul team up to defeat a terrorist. Also, Batman gets married and has a kid.

Why It's Awesome: I'm a sucker for two things in a Batman comic: 1) A good Ra's al Ghul story, and 2) Batman as a globetrotting Indiana Jones/James Bond-type adventurer. This one has both. Intellectually, I know the character works best in the somewhat grounded streets of Gotham. But still, there's something really cool about seeing Batman playing chess with one of his biggest foes, or parachuting into an enemy mountain base.




1) Ten Nights of the Beast (1988)

Plot: A Soviet killing machine named the KGBeast comes to Gotham to assassinate key Americans involved in the Star Wars program. Yes, even the Gipper.

Why It's Cool: The typical Batman villain is either smarter than Batman or stronger than Batman, but this story has one of the few who was both, with Batman always one step behind as the Beast picks off his victims one by one. Additionally, pre-Robin being dead, it features a Batman who's capable of delivering wry lines like, "I sense a lecture on the evils of amateur law enforcement coming on. I'll be back in a while."

I don't use the word "perfect" very often when talking comics, but this really is an absolute perfect Batman story. If you can't get a fanboy thrill reading this, there's really no hope for you.

Batman - June 23, 1989

Today is the 20th anniversary of the release of Batman. Since it's been a couple of years since I've seen it, I decided to pop it in the DVD player and do a review as if I was just seeing it for the first time. Unfortunately, I found that I wasn't able to view it and judge it on its own merits, as opposed to being influenced by how movies have evolved over the past two decades, or the Christopher Nolan films.

The weird thing is, I expected to almost dislike Batman, especially post-The Dark Knight, but I was surprised by how well it holds up. Which is to say, it doesn't really, but enough so that I didn't feel like I was watching something hopelessly out of date.

The Good

-- The opening. The theme is incredible, and remember how cool it felt when you realized the twisting maze the camera was roving through wasn't just some random passageway, but was actually the Bat-symbol?

-- The costume. The yellow oval aside (which DC Comics wisely decided to ditch about ten years ago), this is my favorite costume in any Batman film. It's nice and uncluttered, especially compared to the Bat-suits from Batman Begins and The Dark Knight. Also, no nipples.

-- The Batmobile. Now that's a fucking Batmobile! Not like that stupid tank that Christian Bale drives around in. The CGI "shields" are pretty laughable, though. Even back then.

-- The main cast. It's unfair to compare Nicholson's Joker to Ledger's, because they're both two completely different takes on the character. Nicholson's seems a bit closer to the portrayal in the comics, but even though he occasionally camps it up, it's still a great performance.

As for Keaton...you know, it's really easy to trash his casting 20 years later. Short, scrawny, thinning hair...not really attributes you associate with Bruce Wayne. Also, he was 37 when he filmed this, which was about ten years too old. But in spite of all that, I still dig his performance. He (or his stuntman) doesn't do the martial arts stuff nearly as well as Bale (or his stuntman), but it's certainly passable.

Kim Basinger, I've never really been a fan of in general. And they probably could have found someone better for this film. Still, at least she's believable as a photojournalist, compared to the almost insulting idea of Katie Holmes as an assistant district attorney.

-- The supporting cast. Once you get past the big three, the rest of the casting in this film was just bizarre. Billy Dee Williams as Harvey Dent? Jerry Hall? Robert Wuhl? I mean, it worked, but almost in spite of itself. Meanwhile, for some reason, they cast unknown character actors in the far more pivotal roles of Alfred and Commissioner Gordon.

-- The dialogue. Most films are lucky to have one truly memorable, iconic line. This one has several:

"What are you?" "I'm Batman."

"Where does he get those wonderful toys?"

"Can somebody tell me what kind of a world we live in, where a man dressed up as a bat gets all of my press? This town needs an enema!"

"Alfred, let's go shopping."

"Have you ever danced with the devil in the pale moonlight?"

-- The action scenes. Honestly, this is the part I thought I would dislike the most for some reason, but even though I'm considerably more jaded and cynical now than I was 20 years ago, I still found them to be surprisingly well-done. Batman crashing through the skylight at the museum, fighting the thugs in the alley (especially the guy with the swords), the climax at the cathedral...really, really good stuff.


The Bad

-- Gotham City. Normally, I'm in favor of comic book movies being as comic book-ish as possible. And the Gotham City in the film looks like a city straight out of a comic book. At the time I dug it, but watching the movie now, it really pulls you out of the story. The neo-Gothic architecture, the almost cartoonish interior sets, Gothamites' odd propensity for dressing like it was still the 1940s, etc. Still, it's head and shoulders above the neon-heavy set design in the Joel Schumacher films.

-- The Joker's crush on Vicki Vale. Lame. It reminded me of the old Super Powers cartoon, where Darkseid sort of wanted to take over the world, but his real goal in life seemed to be to force Wonder Woman to marry him.

-- The Bruce Wayne/Vicki Vale relationship. Keaton and Basinger have barely any chemistry. (Weirdly, she and Robert Wuhl have tons of it. I can't be the only one who wanted her to end up with Knox, can I?) The film also rushes them along as a couple way too quickly.

(I remember reading the novelization of the film after I saw it, and when Bruce and Vicki sleep together--on the first date, no less--the author ended the chapter with a really horrible line like, "And finally, they made love." Finally? They barely knew one another! Maybe in the 60s, going two whole days without sleeping with someone you'd just met was considered a long time. But by the late 80s, we knew about STDs. Also, it's just not something Bruce Wayne would do.)

-- The Joker's plan at the end. Let's review: 1) The Joker kills God knows how many people with his tainted products, terrorizing the entire city. 2) The Joker then goes on TV and says he's going to give away millions of dollars to Gotham City residents. 3) People actually fall for this. Worse, even though the Joker's announced exactly where and when he's going to be, at no point does it occur to anyone in the Gotham City PD to maybe stop him or call in the National Guard or whatever.


The Ugly

-- The revelation that the Joker killed Batman's parents. It's just stupid. I get why they did it, as it sort of wrapped everything up in a nice little bow. Still.

-- Alfred bringing Vicki to the Batcave. Unforgivable. Absolutely unforgivable to the point where it almost demonstrates a complete lack of understanding of the characters. If we're making a list of the worst moments in the original Batman franchise, this ranks only below Batman whipping out the Bat Credit Card in Batman & Robin.

-- Killing the Joker. What a horrible, horrible, horrible decision. I mean, yeah, it was done in a cool way. And I love the bit where he's dead and the laugh box is still going. (For some reason, I've actually always found that moment a little bit poignant.) But you have to wonder what they were thinking. Batman has a lot of good villains, but he doesn't have so many of them that you can just haphazardly kill off the very best one and not expect it to come back to haunt you.


To Sum Up:

Looking back, it's interesting how everyone--me, included--panned Schumacher's films at the time for being too campy and not as dark as the Burton films, when Batman and (even more so) Batman Returns are really nothing but camp. Better made camp. But still, not nearly as "dark" as we thought they were at the time.

In spite of its many faults, though, I still think it's impossible to not love this movie. Overall, Tim Burton's vision of Batman may not be as good as Christopher Nolan's vision, but it's certainly a lot more fun.

Batman Week!

I'm sure you all probably know this already, but this week--tomorrow, June 23rd, to be exact--marks an important anniversary, both for lovers of cinema, lovers of comic books, and indeed, lovers of comic book cinema: It's the 20th anniversary of the release of Batman.

(And just as I did when Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull came out last year, let's stop and reflect for a moment on how there are people in college now who weren't even alive when this movie came out. And how much that really fucking sucks.)

Anyway, this week, it'll be all Batman, all the time! Unless, you know, Dan Snyder does something retarded or I see Paul Rudd again and go up and yell at him for how terrible Year One was (he's only in it for about three minutes, but still, that makes him culpable) and get arrested. But other than that? All Batman! All the time!

As for the film, was it perfect? Hardly. In fact, it's pretty flawed. Especially when you take into account A) How dated it looks now, B) How it was dragged down by all three of it's sequels (Batman & Robin was obviously the worst of the bunch, but even with Batman Returns, every time I watch it, I hate it just a little bit more), and C) How incredibly awesome the Nolan/Bale films are.

But it's still a great movie. I'll save my review for tomorrow. Today, I'm just going to mention a few random memories I have of when the film came out.

-- This was maybe my first experience with a quote, unquote "summer blockbuster." Now, there are at least three or four each year. But this is the first time I actually remember seemingly the entire country salivating for the release of a movie. Even Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, which came out the month before, didn't have this sort of buzz. Of course, if we'd known then that it'd be almost 20 years until the next film, and how much it would suck when it did come out, maybe people would have been appropriately jazzed.

-- I went to see it on June 24, 1989 at Springfield Mall. I remember seeing Arch Campbell on the news on Friday night, reporting from outside a movie theater (probably the Uptown), with a line around the block, as excited as I've ever seen him. Given the insane crowds the film was drawing, other parents might have refused to go at least until Sunday, but mine were really cool about taking me ASAP, knowing I'd make life a living hell until I saw it.

When we got into the theater, I was at the age where I didn't want to sit with my parents, so I went a few rows ahead of them, right on the aisle. Then, about two minutes before the movie started, this guy and his visibly pregnant wife came down and, in the somewhat condescending voice adults often use while speaking to children, asked me if I'd mind moving so his pregnant wife could have the aisle seat. I, of course, gave it up, because A) I was a nice kid, and B) I wasn't old enough to have learned that it's okay to say no to an adult.

And you know what? I've regretted it ever since. I don't care if your wife is pregnant. You don't show up to a movie like this at the last possible moment and expect to get whatever seats you want. If I had to do it over again, I would have offered to just move over one seat, so his wife could have the aisle, and he could sit elsewhere. I doubt they would have taken me up on it, and I would have enjoyed the film guilt free.

-- After seeing it, I kept shouting out "This town needs an enema!" in public, not knowing what an enema was. Eventually, my dad had to ask me to stop. Then he explained what an enema was. I stopped.

-- The movie made something like $40 million in its first weekend. At the time, this was the biggest opening for a movie ever. Now, if a big summer action film doesn't make that much in its first weekend, it's declared a bomb.

-- I'm not a big fan of Peter Travers' reviews, but seeing the print ads where it was just the Batman logo and underneath it: "A triumph - Peter Travers, Rolling Stone" remains one of the best bits of movie advertising I've ever seen.

-- The Batman action figure line couldn't have sucked more. At the time, kids were still drunk with the sheer greatness of the Super Powers action figures, where the Batman figure was one of the better ones. The toys based on the film just looked cheap. This was the start of a trend that would continue for years to come. Now, Batman action figures are so gorgeous, I constantly have to remind myself that I'm not an action figure collector. I, uh...might have one or two, though.

-- MTV had a contest where you could win the Batmobile. The trick was, you had to watch MTV all day, and when they ran Prince's Bat Dance video, a number would appear, and the whatever number caller you had to be would win. I did indeed watch MTV all day. I watched more MTV that one day than I have in the past 20 years. And of course, they waited until the last fucking moment of the contest window to play the video. I called the number. I didn't win. I'm actually sort of doubtful anyone did.

But will there be cigars?

We all know what happens last time we mixed Bill Clinton and interns together.

So I have no idea what an "Intern Social Session" is (isn't that pretty much what the entire summer is for D.C. interns?), but apparently, it involves networking, 50¢ wings, and the possibility of getting banged by President Clinton.

At some point, I hope The Town Tavern has Blue Dress Night. Stain optional.

Panel of the Week

From Herogasm #2:

Stalking Paul Rudd

Like all dot-com-types, I'm sure that when the founders of Twitter launched the site, they figured they were creating a service that would help businesses become more efficient, make it easier for people to stay in touch with family and friends, and perhaps even one day play a key role in protests over allegedly fraudulent Iranian elections.

But today illustrated Twitter's true ideal purpose: Helping bloggers stalk movie stars.

There I was, wasting a day off of work at the zoo like a sucker, when Washingtonian's Catherine Andrews was good enough to tweet that the movie production currently in D.C., starring Owen Wilson, Paul Rudd, and Reese Witherspoon, was filming nearby in Adams Morgan.

Stalking Movie Stars > Cute Animals, so I headed over.

The really great thing about film crews
is how unobtrusive they are.

When I got over there, I was bummed to see that the set was pretty much closed off. The filming was taking place a bit past the intersection of Adams Mill and Columbia, and between traffic, the cops, and army of production assistants, there was a fairly efficient perimeter set up. (Not all film sets in D.C. are this secure, often making it easy to do everything from getting a really good look at the action, to even becoming an unofficial extra.)

The PAs, in particular, were doing a good job of making sure onlookers didn't become an issue. And by "doing a good job," I mean, "being annoying pests."

I saw a lot of people sit down across the street, completely out of the way of the filming, only to be told, politely but firmly, that they had to move along. I'm not entirely sure a 19 year-old kid with a headset has the legal authority to do that, but considering that D.C. has started lusting after film dollars like a junkie with a bad crack habit, it wouldn't have surprised me in the least to see the cops side with the 19 year-old kid.

Then I saw him right across the street: Paul Rudd. He was filming a scene where he runs across Adams Mill Road in a wacky manner, dodging traffic, and carrying a six-pack of beer.

It's weird, I don't collect autographs (unless it's on, like, a football or something), and I would never ask a celebrity to take a photo with me (because, I mean, what do you do with it when you have it?). But just seeing Paul Rudd in person made me happy for some reason. Because it's fucking Paul Rudd! Who doesn't love Paul Rudd? If there was a fire, and I had to choose between saving my parents and saving Paul Rudd, I'd save Paul Rudd. My parents gave me life, but Paul Rudd gave me Role Models, The 40 Year Old Virgin, and Overnight Delivery. So really not much of a choice.

To get a better look, I decided to duck into the one place where I was pretty sure the film crew's authority didn't extend, the Starbucks on the corner. A few other people had evidently had the same idea. Most were just harmless onlookers with, at most, camera phones. But there were a few TMZ wannabes there with some serious camera equipment, and that (perhaps understandably) made the production crew somewhat annoyed.

And so this happened:

After these guys were asked to relocate across the street, it was just the harmless onlookers, and a couple of other amateur paparazzi who were allowed to stay because they were focused more on their Frappuccinos than taking photos. With them out of the way, there was no one blocking the view out the window.

That vaguely Paul Rudd-ish blob? That's actually
Paul Rudd! (And that 3 megapixel camera
in the iPhone 3GS is looking pretty good right about now.)

Anyway, you can only watch someone--even Paul Rudd--run across the street carrying beer so many times before it gets boring. So after a bit, I decided to split. But as I walked out of the Starbucks, I noticed that people were being allowed to walk down the sidewalk until they started filming again, and Paul Rudd was only a few yards away.

I thought it over. Do I play it cool, walk past, and just give him the head nod? Do I run up and tell him that if he and my parents were in a fire, I'd save him? Do I kidnap Brocktoon...I mean, Paul Rudd...and keep him in a big jar in my basement?

Ultimately, I decided to just settle for a better picture. But clearly, my paparazzi timing needs work, because at the last second:

I think they're going to be filming in D.C. for a little while longer, so I'm going to watch TMZ so I can get some tips for next time. Hopefully, from that blonde dude. He seems smart.

And I'm also going to get my big jar ready. Just in case.

Sickles says: Re-elect Sickles

I've been going back and forth on this, and I honestly can't decide if it's good politics or kind of tacky for a politician to put a campaign bumper sticker on his own car. Especially the car that has easily-identifiable Virginia House of Delegates plates.

Hating on Big

I got into something of a mental fight this past weekend. In one corner, my childlike sense of wonder. In the other corner, my adult sense of cynicism and distrust.

My childlike sense of wonder got it's fucking ass kicked.

I watched Big for the first time in about 15 years. I'd seen bits and pieces of it here and there, but this was the first time I watched it the whole way through in forever. I guess I was 10 or 11 when it came out in theaters, and like all kids who saw it, I loved it. Because what kid wouldn't want to be Tom Hanks, get a really awesome job at a toy company, and sleep with Elizabeth Perkins in her prime? (Okay, the "sleep with" part might have gone over my head at that age, but still, they held hands a lot.)

But as I watched the film over the weekend, certain things started to bug me. I'm not sure if you'd call them plot holes or things the filmmakers just decided to gloss over or what, but they kind of ruined my enjoyment of the film. So I started writing them down.

I came up with a much bigger list than this, but these are the top five:

1) The Zoltar machine

To enjoy the film, you have to buy into the idea that a fortune telling machine has the ability to grant wishes. Fine, fair enough. But why was it just sitting there, unplugged? Carnies don't forget important details like that. But even if you ignore that one, the machine has to have a decent amount of people using it, otherwise the carnival would have sold it or just dumped it in the East River. So why hasn't anyone noticed that all over the Tri-State Region, wishes are somehow being granted left and right? When 50 people all win the lottery the same week, shouldn't someone be able to make a connection between them and that carnival?

2) Why wasn't there a (whatever Amber Alerts were called back in the 80s) issued?

Josh's mom got a really good look at Tom Hanks when he burst into the house after he changed into an adult. Why didn't she sit down with a police sketch artist, and plaster adult Josh's face all over the news? He would have been arrested within a couple of days.

Now, to be fair, they sort of try to explain this by having the cops think that Josh just ran away, as opposed to being kidnapped. So a raving lunatic claiming he's a woman's son stages a home invasion, after which, there's no trace of the kid, and the cops' theory is that he ran away? These weren't very good cops.

3) Say, what does "thermal" mean?

Throughout the film, Josh struggles with a computer game where he doesn't know what to type in order to proceed. Believe me, as someone who grew up on games like Zork and King's Quest, I can relate to this frustration. But in those games, you actually had to make some real intuitive leaps, like, say, getting rid of the Cyclops in Zork, or figuring out to put the magic bridle on the snake King's Quest II.

In Josh's game, his character is in an ice cave. He knows he needs to melt the ice wizard in the cave. He has something called a "thermal pod." But it's not until the end of the movie until he figures out what to do with it? Was young Josh also slightly retarded?

4) "Wait, you expect a kid to pay $19 for a comic book?"

Josh's big product idea--the film's entire validation of its idea that a kid would actually make a great toy designer--is an electronic comic book that would allow its readers to control what the characters do.

Here's the problem: It's an absolutely horrible idea.

This isn't just speculation, either. Back in the late 80s (perhaps inspired by this film), some company actually tried launching a line of computer games that looked just like a comic on the computer screen. They couldn't have sucked more. Far from the promise in Big that "it would never be the same story twice," you could actually exhaust all the story possibilities in about an hour of gameplay.

Also, the level of technology required to manufacture these comics, as described in the film, barely exists now, much less, in 1988. I mean, they were basically describing mini-Kindles, where each one would come loaded with a comic and somehow retail for less than $20. Oh, and all this would supposedly have been been packed into a unit roughly the same size as an actual comic book. Back then, it would have been more like the size of the Yellow Pages.

Bottom line: It's a good thing Josh went back to being a kid, because this idea of his would have cost MacMillan Toys millions in R&D, and gotten him fired.

5) 30 Going on 13

When Josh suggests Susan also wish to be young, in real life, there's no way she doesn't take him up on it. Can you imagine being 13 again, knowing everything you know at 30? You could get into Harvard! You could avoid unhealthy eating habits! You could correct every single mistake you'd made in your childhood!

Actually, if it were me, I'd probably just read comic books, play video games, and drink beer, just like the first time around. So maybe Susan just figured it wouldn't be worth the hassle after all.

New rule: Leonard Shapiro needs to chill out

Washington Post columnist Leonard Shapiro's new rules for D.C. sports journalism:

New Rule: If you really do want to be taken seriously as a member of the media, you are not supposed to be abjectly rooting for the home team. During the Washington Capitals recent playoff run, I heard more than one local broadcaster end sportscasts or individual reports on the team with an emphatic "Let's Go Caps!"

So? If fans wanted to get non-homer coverage of a game or event, they'd pull up an AP story off of Google News, or tune into ESPN. Fans watch local news because they want to see their local sportscaster live and die with the local teams, right along with them. This isn't exclusive to the D.C. market, either. That's everywhere in America.

And let's be honest, here. For the most part, are local sports anchors even actually journalists? In the technical sense, maybe. But not really.

Let's review their main job responsibilities:

1) Report scores/results from sporting events.
2) Narrate highlights.
3) Lighthearted banter with the anchors.
4) Look reasonsbly good while doing so.

And that's really about it.

In general, how many big stories end up getting broken by a local sports anchor? I forget which station it was, but when Gibbs retired (the first time, when it actually was a big deal) they were first on the air with it, and miked that fact in promos for months. And one of the reasons they made such a big deal about it was because it was such a rare occurrence. It's even more rare now that they have to compete with the Internet.

How many times has a local sports broadcaster really dug deep into a story? Sean Taylor's death? Gilbert Arenas's Halo team? (I'm being facetious: I actually don't think Gilbert Arenas's Halo team has gotten any local TV coverage. Unfortunately.) It just doesn't happen.

I mean, let's face it. Lindsay Czarniak's "Lunch With Lindsay" segment is about as hard-hitting as local TV sports journalism typically gets in this town. Which is fine. That's how people want it. We've always relied on the print media, whether it's newspapers or blogs, to go after the big local sports stories. All sports anchors have to do to make viewers happy is keep their teeth white, and act psyched when the team wins and bummed when the team loses.

Viewers. Like. Homers.

New Rule: Along the same lines, when you're on the job, and especially on the air, don't wear clothing -- golf shirts, team jerseys, ball caps, whatever -- with a local team logo visible.

An interesting point. Allow me to rebut:

Come on, Leonard. Isn't this totally worth whatever perceived lack of journalistic propriety it may or may not illustrate? Sure, the effect isn't quite as intoxicating when it's, say, Brett Haber rocking the jersey, instead of Czarniak. But still.

Now, do I think reporters should routinely wear jerseys? No. Except for players, no one should routinely wear jerseys. Even I only wear mine, like, three weeks out of the regular NFL season. But during the playoffs, when for a brief period, D.C. sports fans get to pretend that the Redskins, Wizards, Caps, or (snort, chortle) the Nationals will break the city's championship drought? Sure, why not?

Again: Viewers. Like. Homers.

Wolff would be too much the consummate gentleman to tell Dibble to cease and desist in referring to the Nationals on the air as "we," as in "we need a hit here" or "us," as in "they're killing us with three-run homers" or "our," as in "our pitching is dismally dreadful."

Here, I sort of agree. This has long been one of my pet peeves. Not just broadcasters, either. Anyone who isn't a player or coach or owner saying "we." But you know what? I also do it all the time myself. Just because it's a hell of a lot easier to say "we" instead of "Washington" or "the Nationals" or whatever.

I would just lump this in with people who use the word "irregardless." Yeah, it's irritating. But in the grand scheme of things, it's also not a big deal.

New Rule: Enough already with Mike and Mike in the morning on ESPN-980, Washington's only all-sports talk radio station. It's not so much the show I object to as its predominately national subject matter.

Well, if the rumors are to be believed, this will be rectified when WJFK flips to sports talk. Which will suck, because we'll probably end up keeping the Junkies, while losing Mike O'Meara and Big O & Dukes, supposedly for shows hosted by LaVar Arrington (really?) and Tony Kornheiser. And that's a horrible deal no matter how you look at it.

Summer Movie Scorecard

Have Seen:

Drag Me to Hell: A+
Up: A-
Star Trek: B+
The Hangover: B
Terminator Salvation: B-
X-Men Origins: Wolverine: C

Definitely Seeing:

Year One
Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen
Brüno
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince
Funny People
G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra
Final Destination: Death Trip 3D
Inglourious Basterds
H2: Halloween 2

Might See:

Dead Snow
Public Enemies

I Love You, Beth Cooper
A Perfect Getaway
District 9
The Time Traveler's Wife

Panel of the Week

From Flash: Rebirth #3:

Guest Blogger Dan Snyder

Whew! Just got back from an exhilarating round of the Ice-T Game. I'm covered in sweat and other people's blood, but I feel great. Tired, but great.

Hmmm? What's the Ice-T Game? Oh, well, a few years ago, when Gibbs was running the team and Vinny and I were...well, sort of encouraged to stay as hands off as possible, we were hanging out in my office watching TV, when this movie called Surviving the Game, starring Ice-T, came on.

Greatest. Movie. Ever.

See, that's the kind of movie I wanted to make with my good friend Tom Cruise, but instead, somehow ended up co-producing that stupid piece of shit about friendly Nazis that came out last year.

When it was over, Vinny turned to me and said, "Hey, Mr. Snyder, we should do that!"

"Do what?" I asked.

"Kidnap homeless people and hunt them for sport!"

I couldn't think of any reason not to, so every summer since then, when FedEx Field is shut down, we set a few homeless people loose in the stadium, and me and my rich friends--and Vinny, who's neither rich nor my friend, but it was his idea--go hunting. It's great fun, and no one gets hurt. Well, no one who will be missed gets hurt. And when it's over, we put the homeless people's heads in formaldehyde and save them as trophies. I'm not actually sure why we do that, but it seemed to make the characters in the movie happy.

Oh, I almost forgot: we call it the Ice-T Game because I tried to explain to Vinny about how the movie was based upon "The Most Dangerous Game," the classic short story by Richard Connell, but that just confused him. Vinny couldn't understand how something could be both a book and movie. So I decided to keep it simple and just go with The Ice-T Game.

Anyway, I'm not here to brag about our summer recreational activities. I'm here to discuss Ted Lerner and the Nationals' first round draft pick.

This is the kind of stuff that drives me absolutely nuts: A couple of months ago, I gave Albert Haynesworth a $100 million contract. All the fans went apeshit wild, calling me stupid for giving him that much money. Then this week, the Nationals draft Steven Strasburg, and there's speculation that they might balk at giving him the $50 million contract he'll likely demand. And all the fans are going apeshit wild, calling them stupid for not giving him that much money.

What am I missing here? Seriously, what the fuck am I missing?

Unlike the NFL, there is no salary cap in MLB. Theoretically, the Nats could give Strasburg a google dollar contract. Conversely, here I am, having to labor under this silly salary cap bullshit, and I find a way to land the most coveted free agent in the game while still re-signing all our other players, and I'm the bad guy?

Whatever. All I know is that if I owned the Nats, I would have had that kid signed an hour after the draft ended. I would have given him his $50 million AND a Coke, and he'd be on the mound for tonight's game.

Furthermore, I'd like to point how how outdated the idea of a salary cap is. If you look at the NFL, you see a handful of powerhouse teams routinely dominating the regular season and playoffs. Meanwhile, over the past decade, capless-MLB has enjoyed parity not seen in any other professional sports league.

Do you have any idea how awesome it would be without a salary cap? The Redskins would win a minimum of 95 Super Bowls over the next century. I'd sign Tom Brady, then I'd sign Peyton Manning to be his back-up. Other teams would probably not even show up to play, so I'd have to have, like, U2 or the Jonas Brothers on stand-by to perform for the crowd at FedEx.

That's how awesome it would be: Jonas Brothers awesome!

Great, now I'm all worked up. Fortunately, I'm pretty sure we have some homeless people left over. I was going to save them for next week, but I need to blow off some steam. In the meantime, D.C., enjoy your hapless baseball team, and it's even more hapless owner. And the next time you feel like complaining about Daniel M. Snyder and the way He runs the Redskins, just remember, it could be worse: I could be fucking Ted Lerner. Then what would you do?

Reality bites

So The Real World is coming to D.C. and people are annoyed and...wait, why are people annoyed, again?

I mean, am I a fan of The Real World? Absolutely not. It's a dumb show that's "real" only in the sense that it's not an animated cartoon. I don't know what world you live in, but at no point have I ever:

1) Been allowed to live rent free in a house for several weeks that was seemingly designed by a 15 year-old's id with an unlimited budget.

2) Been forced to room with six strangers, specifically chosen, not based on their worth as human beings, but on countless interviews and psychological profiles, in order to create the most drama. And by "drama," I mean "screaming at each other over really petty stuff" or "fucking in the hot tub."

3) Been made to work in a place against my will for the sake of even more manufactured drama. Remember how the first few seasons were about young adults trying to follow their artistic dreams in a big city, like being a stand-up comic or a poet or a country singer or whatever? But then MTV decided they had to get boring jobs and follow their dreams on their own damn time like everyone else? That kind of killed it for me. (Although, I guess in a way that did make it marginally more"real.") Actually, do Real World kids even have dreams, anymore? Other than just being on The Real World, I mean?

The bottom line is, this is just another group of tourists that'll be here this summer. Nothing more, nothing less. Think about all the tourists you've encountered in your time living and/or working in D.C. Think about the stupid comments you've overheard them make. Think about how many times you've had to ask them to let you pass them on the escalator. Think about the smells.

Is there any reason to think the Real World people can possibly be any worse?

Frankly, we should be so much more up in arms over The Blonde Charity Mafia and The Real Housewives of D.C. No one's going to judge us harshly over anything that appears on The Real World D.C., because A) Everyone knows what kind of people appear on The Real World, and B) Everyone understands the concept of stupid tourists invading their city, even if they, themselves, occasionally go on to act like stupid tourists when they invade some other city.

The people featured on those other two shows, though...they live here. They may be a bunch of spoiled princesses, but unfortunately, they're our spoiled princesses. And we're going to have to answer for them.

Be afraid.

Batman and Robin #1

"You know, I'd have killed for a flying Batmobile when I was Robin." - Batman

Three things the uninitiated need to know before going into this issue:

1) Batman's dead. (Well, obviously not dead dead. He's coming back eventually. But be cool and play along, huh?)

2) The old Robin is the new Batman.

3) The new Robin is the old Batman's illegitimate son. (Don't ask. I mean, if you really care, knock yourself out. But otherwise, it's not really important.)

It seems a bit odd that Batman and Robin have been in existence for almost 70 years, and this is the first regular series actually titled Batman and Robin. (Well, there's also this, but it's crap, and thus easily ignored.) Over the past several years, though, Batman and Robin have been less like partners and more like old pals from high school who occasionally still hang out, but really aren't into it, and are just doing so out of habit.

So on one hand, this title is long overdue. There's something really iconic and familiar and fun about the Batman and Robin partnership, especially once the 90s stripped it of most of its cornier elements. Hell, Robin even got pants!

On the other hand, though, at the end of the day, this isn't really Batman and Robin. It's the artist formerly known as Robin and Batman's kid, who may well be the most annoying character in comics. To be fair, this is mostly by design. Damian (Robin) clearly isn't supposed to be likable. That doesn't make reading him any more pleasant.

Also, in this issue, the Batmobile flies. The Batmobile shouldn't fly. It just shouldn't. It's as wrong as if Superman suddenly decided to start walking everywhere.

Other than these quibbles, though, this was a pretty solid first issue. Frank Quietly is one of the top artists working in comics today, and at any given moment, Grant Morrison is fully capable of delivering a completely awesome moment that will remind readers of how cool superhero stories can be in the hands of a writer who knows what he's doing. (Conversely, at any given moment, Grant Morrison is also fully capable of delivering a completely confusing moment that will make readers tear their hair out by the roots, and scramble to log onto comic book message boards to see if anyone else understood whatever it was that went right over their heads.)

Perhaps most impressively, Morrison and Quietly have apparently managed to pull off what countless other creative teams have failed miserably at: coming up with a truly great Batman villain.

You can probably count on one hand the number of good Batman villains that have been introduced in the past decade. In fact, I could only come up with one. The majority have been more along these lines. Of course, one issue (let alone, two pages of that one issue) is too soon to judge whether Pyg will be the former or the latter. But man...how does that picture not give you the willies?

So after a couple of years at DC where Morrison's production has been uneven at best, he charges back with a valiant, if not entirely successful, effort. It's probably not the Batman and Robin series readers would have liked to see, but it's not a bad start, either.

Dating for D.C. Dummies

When I first read this week's Date Lab, I thought I'd found another winning couple. Then when I reread it a couple of hours later, I didn't find the couple nearly as annoying as I did the first time. But what the hell? It's a free blog entry.

Also, Todd's last name is Funkhouser, and I really wanted an excuse to type that out, because it's the greatest last name in the history of the world. Try saying it a few times. There's no way you don't feel good after doing so. Funkhouser. Funkhouser. Funkhouser. Awesome.

Todd: I got to the restaurant and had a beer at the bar. When Kim came in, the hostess pointed me out. She's definitely stockier than what I'm interested in. I knew she wasn't my type physically, but I thought maybe she'd be cool.

Kim: He could have stood a few more reps at the gym, but I thought he was very cute.

I don't know why people of either gender sign up for Date Lab thinking they're going to be rewarded with physical perfection. Frankly, if you don't recoil when you see your date, you should count yourself lucky. (That said, last week's couple was arguably the column's best-looking ever.)

But if we're going to give the prize for better looking of the two, Kim definitely wins. The photo the Post used in the magazine was (shockingly) not the most flattering, but if you look at the other two photos on the website, Kim doesn't remotely come off as "stocky." Todd just looks sort of like a bald Vanilla Ice.

Kim: He thought it was funny to take a picture shoving my head into his crotch. It was very juvenile. I went along with it to keep things light, but in the back of my mind I knew I was going to delete those later.

She has a point. But it occurs to me that if you're ever on a Date Lab date and you both realize what a horrible mistake you've made, and don't want to experience the subsequent public humiliation that comes with being featured in Date Lab, you should probably take nothing but photos where you're shoving your heads into each other's crotches, or similar vulgar poses. There's no way the Post would run them, and you'd be saved.

Unless, of course, the Post did run them, in which case...well, hopefully, your parents/employer/clergyman have a sense of humor.

Todd: You either get my sense of humor or don't. I describe [mine] as funny as [expletive] and hers as not.

You're losing me, Funkhouser. No one who describes their own sense of humor as "funny as [expletive]" is ever actually correct. It'd be like me saying that "I can dunk a basketball like [expletive]." It's a nice delusion, but it's simply not true.

Also, the people who really are "funny as [expletive]" are making their living as professional comedians or writers, not high school math teachers. (And how much does Todd wish the Post had waited just a couple more weeks to run this column? Then it would have been summer vacation, and his students would have forgotten about it by the fall. Right now, the Post Magazine is being passed around the halls of that school like it was a Playboy.)

He seemed like he was more interested in the experience of Date Lab than the actual date.

That's kind of sick. Who actually wants to experience Date Lab?

Date Lab is basically an admission of desperation. Waving the white flag. Looking yourself in the mirror and realizing that possibly the only thing standing between you and dying alone is the Washington Post. I can't think of anything more depressing.

Todd: She's nice and everything, but not my type. You guys kinda suck at matchmaking.

Jesus, finally, someone says it.

I wonder if up until now, the Date Lab people have been living in the same sort of bubble Bush was during his years in office. Like, every week, a Cheney or Rove-type at the Post walks into Date Lab HQ and tells the editors what a great job they're doing setting people up, and to keep up the good work, and maybe give them some Photoshopped pictures that are supposedly of former Date Lab participants getting married. And this was the first time anyone ever told them how much they suck at this.

Probably not. But it's fun to imagine.

Panel of the Week

From The Boys #31:

No, Batman would not have shot George Tiller. Jesus...

This diary at Redstate.com by Repair_Man_Jack, pondering whether or not Batman would have killed George Tiller, makes for somewhat interesting reading (albeit, like most of the reading at Redstate, the kind that makes you want to bang your head against the wall), although it's unfortunately about 95% an anti-abortion/anti-Tiller rant, with so and only 5% Batman.

I used to post and comment on stuff from Redstate here all the time, back when I used to write about politics, before eventually deciding to abandon that for more important topics like Dan Snyder, horror movies, and stuff I see on the Metro. I still read the site regularly--occasionally, I even agree with something written there--and even though the mods and front page writers often come off as an insufferable, thin-skinned lot, on the rare occasion they discuss sports or pop culture on the site, they seem like good enough guys. Proving, as far as I'm concerned, that if we could just forget all this political bullshit like abortion and gay marriage and whether America is or is not being turned into a socialist nation, and focus on really vital issues like comic books and transformers, everyone would get along so much better.

Anyway, back to the Batman post. Honestly, I'd rather respond over there, but since you're not allowed to post on Redstate and disagree with conservative dogma, I'll do it here.

Like the Comic Book Character Batman, Dr. Tiller's shooter believed he was performing a necessary ablation of evil that a corrupted society would not willingly address.

So assuming Batman was strongly pro-life in this outlook, it sadly becomes almost conceivable that The Dark Knight would have taken the shot. But would he have acted out of chivalry and still held moral gravamen to retain his knighthood?

Setting aside the terrible writing, there are two main problems with this thesis. I'll leave the more easily refuted one, that Batman wouldn't kill anyone, for last. The more interesting question is, "Is Batman strongly pro-life?"

And you know what? I'll concede that he probably is. Obviously, this isn't exactly the sort of storyline that DC Comics has been in any hurry to address. And when they have tried to mix superheroes and politics, the results have been horrific. But I have absolutely no problem believing that Batman thinks abortion is wrong. I'm not saying Bruce Wayne is out picketing abortion clinics or making donations to Operation Rescue, but I'll agree that he doesn't approve the the procedure.

Does this make him a Republican, though? Not a chance. When it comes to every other major issue--taxes, gay rights, gun control (definitely that last one)--he's a staunch liberal. Sure, Bruce Wayne may pretend to be a Republican, but it's only part of his playboy ruse. And since there's no way Batman is a one-issue voter, that makes him either a Democrat or a liberal independent.

But where Repair_Man_Jack's argument falls apart entirely is that Batman simply doesn't kill. He doesn't. I mean...there's just no way of getting around this one. He. Doesn't. Let me put it this way: Every time Batman catches the Joker, the Joker's killed, like, a dozen people. And when he inevitably escapes, he'll kill a dozen more. And it'd be really easy for Batman to just whack him, but it's not who he is. And if he ever did kill someone, it would be because he snapped, not out of "chivalry."

Pondering whether a staunchly pro-life Batman would have shot Dr. Tiller leaves me feeling both profoundly depressed, yet also relieved. I'm depressed and saddened that I could easily envision a mythical hero of my early childhood taking that horrible shot. I'm relieved, however, when I remind myself that Batman blessedly does not exist.

Er...dude? It's not like this was actually an issue people were pondering until you brought it up. When I saw the diary on Redstate this morning, I had to re-read the title a couple of times, because "Would A Pro-Life Batman Shoot Dr. George Tiller?" makes about as much sense as "Five + Computer = Monkey."

Don't get me wrong. I'm glad that Repair_Man_Jack came to the conclusion that Batman probably wouldn't have shot Tiller (at least, I think that was the conclusion he came to; honestly, I'm not entirely sure what his point is towards the end), but was it a question that needed to be asked? No. But since it was asked, should there be even the slightest bit of confusion as to what the answer is? No.

A far more interesting question, I think, is "Would Green Arrow beat up Rush Limbaugh?" I believe he would. And I think the entire Justice League--Batman included--would help.

Metro courtesy for all! (Or: Why old women are evil and I hate them)

Last week, the Post ran an article that basically was about what dicks people are on the Metro. Specifically, how young guys tend to not give up their seats for those who need them, even when they're sitting in the priority section specifically reserved for the elderly or handicapped. Obviously, for anyone who's lived here longer than a week, the fact that people can be dicks on the Metro isn't exactly news, but since it seems like I read this exact same article once a year, I guess both Metro and the Post have to draw attention to this sort of thing every so often for the benefit of the people who just moved to D.C.

But, hey, Granny? I know that according to the article, it's generally guys like me who make your ride miserable, and I'm sorry about that. But you don't get a free pass on etiquette, either. It sucks you're old and all, but you still have to act like a human being on the Metro.

Just as the Post article helpfully instructs young men on how to act on the Metro, here are a few examples of bad behavior I've witnessed from your type that you might want to keep in mind.

1) A few weeks ago, an elderly woman got on my bus. It was only half full, so there were plenty of seats available, both priority and otherwise. But she seemed to want one seat in particular, the one on the end of the row of priority seats, which happened to be occupied by a guy playing his PSP. I don't know why she wanted that seat so badly, but she made a beeline for it, and stood in front of the guy for about ten seconds, just glaring down at him. The guy either didn't notice or pretended he didn't notice, and eventually, the woman gave up and sat down someplace else.

Lesson For Old People: You're entitled to a seat on the Metro. Not any seat you want.

2) Once, I boarded an Orange Line train during morning rush hour. This is never a fun experience, but on this day in particular, it was really bad, with everyone pressed together like sardines. I ended up standing right next to the priority seats. An old woman was sitting in one of them. I had my messenger bag slung around my shoulder, and as the train moved, the bag lightly (and I mean lightly) bumped the woman on her leg. After this happened a couple of more times, she gave me a dirty look and said, "You can put your bag on the floor."

Actually, I couldn't have. There was no space on the floor. I would have been putting it down on someone's feet. And when people started moving, it could have gotten kicked or scuffed up or something. But even if I could, I wouldn't have, because I hated the woman's attitude.

Regardless of whether you're old, handicapped, or pregnant, if you're sitting down on a crowded Metro train, at least you have some semblance of personal space. I have no idea what Hell is like, but I wouldn't be surprised if it involved being forced to stand while riding a packed subway train for all eternity. So if you're lucky enough to have a seat and a bag taps you every couple of minutes, just deal with it.

As for the woman, I thought about saying something, but decided against it. So I just looked at her and shook my head no. She didn't like this response, but she also seemed to realize no good could possibly come of getting into it on a crowded train. By the time we reached her stop, the train had emptied considerably, and from the way she was looking at me as it pulled into the station, I think she was going to say something as she got off. But the joke was on her, since it was also my stop, and by the time she was able to get off the train, I was already halfway out the station. Because old people are slow.

Lesson For Old People: Crowded Metro trains are a miserable fucking experience for everyone. Yes, even you. If you don't like it, avoid trains during rush hour or get your son to hire you a Cadillac and a driver.

3) During afternoon rush hour, there were lines to get through the gates at Gallery Place. There was an old woman directly in front of me. She touches her SmarTrip card to the sensor. It doesn't work. She touches it again. It doesn't work. She touches it again. It doesn't work. She touches it again. It doesn't work. She looked back at me and smiled apologetically. I smiled back. She touches it again. It doesn't work. She touches it again. It doesn't work. She smiled at me again.

I started to suggest that maybe she should see the station manager. (Who naturally, would be no help whatsoever, but by this point, I've seen the two other lines briskly moving along, and I can hear the annoyed murmurs of the people behind me. And even though I knew those murmurs weren't directed at me, it still sort of felt like they were.) But before I could, she touches the card again. It doesn't work. She touches it again. It doesn't work. Some guy a few people behind me said, "Oh, come on," and even though he was sort of being a dick, I could understand where he was coming from.

"Hey, so it doesn't seem to be working..." I said politely, forcing the smile to stay on my face. Instead of smiling back, though, she gave me a hurt look and sort of wandered off towards the manager's booth. I felt like an asshole.

Lesson For Old People: Look, I know that being old, technology vexes you. But if something isn't working, trying it over and over again isn't going to work.

4) This morning, people at my stop had just finished boarding the bus and it was starting to pull away, when I saw a woman (I'd say early-to-mid 60s) about twenty yards away, running towards the bus, frantically waving for the driver to wait. And she was really booking, too. At the last moment, the bus driver saw her, stopped the bus, and opened the door. At which point, the woman promptly stopped running, and...I can't even say that she started to walk. More like started to stroll leisurely towards the bus. She wasn't in pain or limping or anything. She wasn't out of breath. She just apparently decided that since the bus was waiting for her, there was no longer a need to hurry. She even stopped to grab a copy of the Express. Everyone was watching her out the windows, and everyone wanted to kill her.

Lesson For Old People: If you can't run, don't risk injury by running after a bus and wait for the next one. If you can run, don't you dare stop until you're on the damn bus. That extra thirty seconds to a minute may not seem like a big deal to you, but it creates a snowball effect, where next we miss the light, and then we get caught in traffic, and as a result, people miss their train.

Besides, you're old. You don't have that much time left. Move it!

Angel (and Mark, Roger, Maureen, etc.) and demons

I'm pretty sure this is the world's first and only combo Rent/Drag Me to Hell review post. And really, even one is probably too many. But this is how I spent my weekend.

I guess there's really not much left to say about Rent at this point. The review I read in the Post mentioned that there are good Rent tours and bad Rent tours, and that this was one of the good ones, but I doubt I would have been able to tell the difference. I enjoyed it. I saw the movie a few years ago and really liked it, and when the production came through D.C. last time, I thought about going, but didn't. Which turned out for the best, as that production didn't have two of the original cast members, and this one did. (The movie is structured as much more of an ensemble, but with the play, Mark is clearly the main character, so it was nice to get to see Anthony Rapp playing the part.)

All things being equal, I liked the movie better. I can see why so many Rent-heads (more on them in a moment) feel the opposite, and I might agree with them if I'd seen the play before the movie. But overall, I thought the film was able to tell the story better.

As for the Rent-heads...geez. I know they're a passionate bunch, but still. Hanging out inside the Warner Theater before the show and listening to the buzz of the people around, I wasn't sure if I was attending a traveling production of a Broadway musical, or the Second Coming of Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ Himself. I also found it a bit annoying the two or three times that the audience went wild before something happened on stage, simply out of anticipation.

So I guess the moral is, if you're going to see Rent for the first time, try not to go with or sit near any Rent-heads. Or failing that, slip a Valium into their drink beforehand, so they're nice and docile and not prone to over excitement.

Spoilers follow...

What a great fucking horror film.

For years, horror geeks have either A) Turned their noses up at PG-13 horror films, or B) Gone to them, but held them to a much lower standard. Assuming you read a fair amount of horror movie reviews, how many times have you come across a statement like, "For a PG-13 horror film, it wasn't bad"?

Well, Sam Raimi has officially put an end to that crap. It turns out that it is possible to make a not just good PG-13 horror film, but a great one. Sure, you're limited in terms of gore, and you can only say "fuck" once. But you're still perfectly able to cram in as many frights and jumps as possible, and this, Raimi does really well.

What's really interesting is that for most of the first 2/3 of the movie, it's almost impossible to even tell it's a Raimi film. There's the Evil Dead-esque fight between Christine and the gypsy in the parking garage, and that's about it. But then, during the seance, when the goat starts talking, and the possessed guy starts floating around, it's like Raimi decided to totally cut loose. I'm glad he showed the restraint, because as fun as Raimi's trademark goofiness is, it would have been a bit difficult to take the whole time.

(Speaking of the seance, that was really the only plot hole I could find, but it sort of annoys me: the psychic lady waited 40 years for another crack at killing the Lamia, and when she finally gets it, she charges Christine $10,000? How does that make sense?)

And that ending. Wow. I mean, just stop and think about it for a moment. There have been plenty of horror movies where the good guy loses. But "loses" generally means gets killed. Or driven insane, or framed and arrested for any murders that might have taken place, or something along those lines.

On the other hand, here, Christine ends up getting dragged to hell, where her soul will burn for all eternity. Even with as many horror films as I've seen, that kind of creeps me the fuck out.

If there's a sequel made somewhere down the road, it better not involve Justin Long figuring out a way to save her. Honestly, I just like the idea of her burning. Once I realized what was going on with the envelopes and what was probably going to happen to her, I thought for sure they were going to come up with some way to make the audience hate her, such as by having her try to convince her boyfriend to take the button in a moment of desperation before the demons came for her. Just so it wouldn't feel quite so bad when she was killed, and people could leave the theater figuring that she deserved what she got.

But to its credit, the film never compromised on that, and as a result, nice, sweet, beautiful, Christine, who only wanted to stay thin and get a promotion at work and earn the approval of her boyfriend's parents, is now burning in hell for all time. Harsh.